Rebirth of the Light : The Years That Followed
by Caslia
Summary: An Anakin Skywalker AU, post ROTS. The Force intervenes and saves Anakin from himself with the birth of his twins. Now Anakin, Padme and Obiwan must rebuild their relationships and face the pending challange presented by the Empire. COMPLETE
1. Introduction

_Rebirth of the Light_ - The Years That Followed

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Disclaimer: Not mine. Duh.

RATING: Differs greatly from post to post. In general, the fic is rated PG- 13, but that's just to be on the safe side.

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WARNING:

IF YOU HAVEN'T READ _REBIRTH OF THE LIGHT_, THEN STOP RIGHT HERE. This fic is the sequel to a previous work. Revision has been done to some of the earlier chapters, so changes in writing style and proficiency differs by chapter.

NOTE: THE RIGHT HAS BEEN RESERVED BY THE AUTHOR TO WRITE THE CHAPTERS AT ANY LENGTH SHE DEEMS APPROPRIATE, AS WELL AS TO POST AS OFTEN OR AS UNOFTEN AS SHE DEEMS NECESSARY, AS WELL AS TO WRITE MUSHY UNCHARACTER-LIKE SCENES OF ROMANCE AND FRIENDSHIP AS THIS FIC IS TOTALLY OUT OF CHARITY AND THE GOODNESS OF HER HEART.

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Caslia


	2. The Days Following: Chapter 1

Chapter One:

_The Days Following

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_

Immediately following _Rebirth of the Light

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_

There should have been music.

There should have been a choir singing some heavenly song, bright, white light spilling in from somewhere. The sound of children giggling, or a trumpet's golden horn playing. An angel should have descended down from the ceiling and spoken some soft but heavenly words, touched his mask and all the Darkness would melt away.

None of this happened, however.

But it didn't matter. Vader, formerly a Dark Lord of the Sith, a servant of the Emperor Palpatine, knelt humbly on the floor in a little cottage with a baby wrapped in his arms.

His baby. His son.

"Luke."

The child, only an hour old, cooed at the sound of his father's voice and little blue eyes opened to stare with wonder up at Vader.

Who needed heaven, or angels singing or any other miracle, when he held this child, or his daughter, little Leia, in his arms? They, all on their own, without even knowing it, had changed the fate of the galaxy, simply by being born.

Bending his head down, Vader smiled softy as he whispered to the child.

"I love you, son."

Love. . .

They were words he had thought, only an hour or so ago, that he would never say again. But then, he never thought he would see his Padme again. Would ever be at peace with his best friend Obi-wan. Or that he might ever speak his name, Anakin, again in this life without the foul bile rising up and choking him, reminding him of the past and all that had come between him and those that he loved.

There it was again. That wonderful, terrifying, intoxicating word.

But words were so useless. They could trick, could be twisted, or could fail to explain this burning emotion that now raged inside him.

Where was the hate? The anger, the rage and the fear?

He had traded them, as if he had handed over the identity of Darth Vader for that of Anakin Skywalker, renewing who he was and the way he saw the world.

So deep was Vader – Anakin – in these thoughts, that he did not hear Padme's voice speaking to him till her small, delicate hand came to rest upon his board shoulder and shake him quite soundly.

"Hmmm? What?"

His wife, his angel, all glowing with the wonders of motherhood, laughed. "Oh, Ani." She chided. "Where had you gone this time?"

Careful of the babe in his arms, of Luke nestled up against him and Leia in her mother's arms, Anakin stretched out his hand and brushed the curls away from Padme's face. "Not far, my love. Not far. I'm still here. Here to stay, now. I promise."

Content with that, Padme nodded, then motioned for him to give her Luke. "He needs to be fed." Winking, she took the child from her husband. "I think the three of us need a little time alone together. To rest and to be close. Will you give me that, Ani?"

"Anything for you."

But despite this claim, Anakin felt hollow as Luke was taken from his arms and he stood to leave the room. Leave?! But he had only been with them an hour! One hour, when he had not seen Padme in nearly a year. An hour, in which his life had been returned to him.

But he had to be understanding.

He stood, despite the stiffness in his mechanical legs from sitting so long, and moved to the door. If he noticed the spirit of an old Jedi Master standing there, he was in too great a wonder to comment on it.

Hoping for fresh air, even though he knew the idea was strange, Anakin left the cottage and went to stand outside, under the oak trees, and gather his thoughts.

It was like he was awake in a dream.

Could all this be real?

He shuddered to think he might wake from this, only to find himself back in the darkness of the Imperial Throne world. All of this could just be fading images and the voices nothing more than the longings of some deranged mind, driven to madness by intolerable loss and sinister crimes.

"Anakin?"

Smiling even though it hurt the scarred skin on his face, Anakin turned to find Obi-wan coming out of the cottage towards him. There was that same, hesitant smile on his friend's face.

The Jedi stopped a meter or two away and waited. "Can I. . .join you?"

Nodding, Vader sat himself carefully down onto the grass; Kenobi moved to sit across from him. They stared at each other for a long, long moment.

"Thank you," Anakin said at last, uncomfortable with the silence, "for allowing me to stay. And for letting me hold Leia, and then Luke." Obi-wan smiled warmly, but only for a moment, then they lapsed back into the strange silence, where tension, and the fear of saying the wrong thing, held their tongues.

A bird called overhead, there was the soft cry of a child inside and both men shifted uncomfortably.

At last, Obi-wan sighed and ran a hand through his hair, which only now Anakin realized was showing signs of gray. Had he been the cause of that?

"It shouldn't be like this between us, Anakin." The Jedi Master sighed in frustration, more at himself than his former apprentice. "Nothing is going to change between us, nothing will get better, if we keep letting the past stand in the way. I thought we had set that behind us, you and I. Forgiven each other for what happened."

"What do you want me to do?" Anakin asked solemnly. "Just forget that it ever happened? Just ignore the past two years and how they have shaped who I have become?"

"Do you like what you have become?"

All things considered, including this conversation, the answer to that was obvious. "No. I have even asked for your help to change. But these things did happen, Obi-wan. And that won't change by _forgetting_ the memories of those things."

The Jedi Master, looking more and more sad, nodded. "I know, Anakin. I know. But we have to overcome those things. To heal."

To heal. . .

A part of Vader whispered in his mind that he didn't need to heal, that if he and Obi-wan renewed their friendship, overcame the past, he would be a weak, pathetic Jedi all over again. That he wasn't meant for love, but power. That he should just get up, take his family with him and go back to the Empire where he belonged.

The part of him that was terrified of loosing Padme, his twins, and even Obi-wan silenced that ominous voice. Anakin found himself smiling again, stupidly this time.

"Do you remember the time I borrowed one of the master's swoops and entered that race in the lower levels? And crashed?"

Caught off guard, Obi-wan nodded, sensing the other's good mood. "Yes."

"I ended it up with a broken leg, a dislocated elbow, and a concussion that knocked out my Force senses for nearly two weeks. You and the masters suspended me from any and all flying vehicles for months, and we had to cancel a mission. Do you remember that?"

"Yeah. . ." Obi-wan felt his own lips starting to curl at the memory.

"This," Anakin assured him, "is going to be a lot easier to deal with."

Laughter, strange after so long, choked Anakin and he had to struggle to draw breath while Obi-wan clutched his own side and chuckled with mirth. His master, his old friend was laughing.

When they both had regained control, which took some time for both Jedi and Sith, Obi-wan wiped a tear from his eyes and brew out a breath. "I had forgotten about that time. I believe there were many similar incidents."

"Yes, but none with the injuries as extensive as this."

Obi-wan fell silent at that, his eyes sweeping over the armor, the mask that encased what was left of Anakin Skywalker. He could only imagine the surgery it had taken, the days and nights of bacta dips his friend had undergone.

"Was all of this. . .all of this because of. . .of that day. . .on Mustafar?"

Anakin shuddered.

"No, not all of it. I lost this arm back on Genonosis, in the fight with Dooku, you know. The rest. . ." Anakin looked terribly uncomfortable, "The Darkside. . .it does things to a person's body when they use it for an extended period of time."

He didn't say anything more than that, and he really didn't have to. Obi- wan nodded, recalling all the things he had learned about the Darkness, in both his Jedi training and the past few years.

"Anakin. what happened that day - Force. You have no idea how much I wish I could go back and change it. I – I can't tell you how terrified I was when you when - "

"I know, Obi-wan." Anakin half-whispered, a part of him terrified. "I remember. But . . .it-it wasn't your fault. It was mine. Like a fool, I believed what the Darkness told me and I blamed you for everything that happened. I'm so sorry, Master. For everything. For the Jedi and-" Seeing the shadow fall over Kenobi's face then, Vader choked on his words. "Force, Obi-wan." He fell silent then, unable to find words.

"You know," the Jedi finally said, looking away, "when you walked into that room, saber drawn, I thought. . . I thought you might really go as far as to kill those children. . ."

Behind the mask, Anakin's eyes blazed with fury. But he quickly squashed it, guilt rising in its place. Obi-wan had every right to think he might have caused his children harm. He had watched as his best friend had cut down the Jedi, Kenobi's family. Had seen a younger, angry Skywalker beat his wife.

To think he had once been that monster. . .that he still was, in many ways. . .

"But," Obi-wan continued, "I was wrong. And I'm sorry."

"Not as sorry as I am. For everything."

Another awkward silence followed. Obi-wan stood slowly and offered the Dark Lord his hand. Vader looked at it, and after a long moment's hesitation, took hold and rose.

"So much I wanted to say," Obi-wan ran an unsteady hand through his hair. "And now I. . . I guess I just never thought I'd actually get the chance to tell you what happened that day."

Shrugging, Anakin looked to the cottage. "You planning on leaving?"

"No."

"Then we've got time to figure it out."

Obi-wan's head jerked up; he looked surprised to find Vader would be willing to ever discuss what had happened to them that day ever again. Anakin smiled, shrugged, and turned back to the house.

"You promised you'd help me change." His old apprentice reminded him. "And like you said, change comes with healing."

"Well, you never know. I might just be right about something for once." The Jedi joked.

"Don't push your luck, Kenobi." Anakin's deep voice replied over his shoulder, heading back into the little cottage. He could hear Padme talking to the twins inside. Despite her request, the Sith felt a growing need to be with his family again, even after such a short period of time.

"Luck?" Obi-wan asked after him, now completely alone outside. "There's no such thing as luck! Just the Force. I've got proof." He muttered to himself, "It brought you back to us, didn't it?"

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Chapter One To Be Continued

Caslia :D


	3. The Days Following: Chapter 2

Continuation of Chapter One:

_The Days Following

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Immediately following _Rebirth of the Light

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It was the first time in nearly a year that Anakin noticed the stars.

The name of the planet, which he had learned from Sabé in an uncomfortable encounter in the kitchen, was called Thantinia; and its moon hung high above so that Skywalker had to lean his neck back to look at it.

It was an unusual experience. Always before, he had glanced at a moon from his ship, unconcerned with its presence. Now, looking up at its shining face, the former Sith Lord found both glory and beauty in something so simple. It signaled the coming of the night and restful darkness, something so different, something pure and without the vice he knew of Darkness.

But with the night came a number of questions.

The first one, something else he had not bothered to consider, was where was he supposed to sleep?

It seemed only polite, not to mention reasonable, that he return to his ship and the oxygen chamber and stay there the rest of the night. But at the same time, that idea terrified him. Leaving Padme and the twins, sleeping in a cold, empty Imperial ship miles from their warmth.

Anakin could not, however, bring himself to ask Obi-wan if he might be allowed to stay at the cottage. Maybe his redemption had made his weak, but the wound between him and his former master was only just healing.

He did not want be an inconvenience, considering all the suffering he had already caused them. Nor did he want to put tension on any of the newly healed relationships.

In the end, the question of where to sleep was settled for him.

"Lord Vader?"

Forcing himself to look away from the moon, Anakin turned to the silhouette of Sabé that stood in the doorway of the cottage.

She was, understandably, terribly uncomfortable in his presence. Considering she had the one who had tried to protect her mistress from the blows of a furious Jedi, and had ended up cowered in a corner, her beautiful, long hair removed with a lightsaber, she had every right to fear and hate him. However, he had found, much to both his surprise and gratitude, that Sabé neither hated nor pitied him.

Rather, she moved around him as though he were glass and she the shrill wind that might break him.

Once, that might have pleased him greatly. Now, he was utterly disgusted with himself.

"Please." He called out quietly towards her, but moving no closer. "Sabé, don't call me that." When she said nothing more, he sighed. This would take time. He had hurt this woman both physically and psychologically. He could not push her to accept his changes.

He also couldn't accept them. Not yet. Obi-wan said he needed time first.

"Milord," the young woman finally spoke again. "Milady wishes to speak with you." She ducked back inside after that, not saying another word.

With this weighing on his conscience, Anakin entered the little hut and walked down the hall to where Padme's room was located. When he had last spoken with her, which had actually been the first time in nine months, she had been laying down, recuperating from the birth. Now, five hours later, she sat upright, brushing her long, beautiful hair with an ivory comb and humming softly to herself.

She didn't see him, her face turned to the high window, from which the moon smiled in upon her.

They had been watching the same moon.

How many nights had they perhaps watched the same planet from a distance, or wished upon the same stars? Only a year apart, but Anakin felt as though his whole life had passed him by in those few months.

Once again he was reminded how close he had come to losing her. The thought left a lump in his damaged throat and he could not force himself to speak.

Instead, Anakin walked silently over and reached out a hand to brush her brown tresses, to feel their silky softness again. But, seeing the glove that covered his hand, knowing he could never feel the touch he so craved, at the last moment Anakin pulled back.

It was not fast enough.

Padme turned, having sensed his presence, her eyes reflecting all his own hidden emotions. "Why did you stop?"

Those eyes looked up at him, his angel; here, beside him after so long. And he couldn't tell her. Tell her that as much as he wanted to touch her hair, he never would feel it. That he remembered grabbing it and using its beautiful length to slam her into the wall. That it was the same texture of the hair he had sliced off Sabé's head in her attempt to protect her mistress.

The shame burned brightly in Anakin and he nearly turned away. But Padme's hand reached out and took his own.

Staring up at him, so much love written in her beautiful eyes, she said, "Don't leave me."

And then he couldn't.

She pulled him to her; made room on the bed and he lay down beside her. Reaching out, Padme switched off her bedside light and draped the room in cool darkness.

They were alone.

As they had not been in nearly a year.

"The twins." Anakin found himself saying. Looking for a way out, a way for them not to be alone. It was terrifying. He was scared, so terribly scared. Of what might be said. Of what might be done. Of what _he_ might do. Though a part of him was furious he might use his children in this manner, he persisted. "The twins need to be here, with you."

But Padme, still smiling sweetly, heaven in her eyes, brushed her fingertips across his mask in the dark. "Sabé will take care of them for tonight. She knows I need my rest. The twins are alright with her."

She fell silent then, his angel. Thanks to the mechanics of his helmet, he could see her in the dark, even when she could not see him. Saw the tear fall from her eye and Anakin wiped it gently away.

Padme didn't even notice.

There, in the darkness, she ran her hands over the mask, caressing all the features of the monstrous visage that was now her husband's face. Not once did she balk or hesitate. Blind, Padme memorized ever curve, smiling all the while.

Anakin was mesmerized.

Not once, in all the time he had worn the mask, had he ever thought it anything beyond grotesque. He despised it, feared it. Longed to rip it off and shatter it into millions of little, black shards of nothingness. And here was his wife. Beaten, abandoned and impregnated by him. Touching it as if she had never seen anything so beautiful.

This feeling of awe, of wonderment, was broken suddenly, however. Padme, still smiling, leaned over him and moved to gently kiss his mask.

A kiss, nothing more. Just one.

But it was enough.

With a great shudder and something akin to a moan, Vader forced himself away. As gently as he could, he pushed an astonished Padme back upon the sheets and moved to sit at the side of the bed, facing the door.

He could hear her rustling on the sheets behind him, her soft breathing as she sat up and moved to kneel behind him. But he could not turn to face her.

"Ani." How long since he had heard her call him that? "Ani, please. Tell me what's wrong."

"Don't."

It was a simple command. She ignored it, wrapping her graceful arms around his large frame and snuggling up behind him, her head on his shoulder.

"Don't, Padme. Please, don't touch me."

When she ignored him, he tightened his fists.

"Please," one last time, one last plea. "Don't make me hurt you."

It was enough. Padme lowered her arms and pulled away, not so much out of fear as to show she understood this request was very important to him. Moving carefully as to not accidentally bump him, she lowered herself beside him on the bed.

For a long time, no one said anything.

"Why?" she asked at last.

There were a hundred reasons. He did not want to hurt her. He did not know if he could control himself. He didn't know what might happen. But mostly, because he could not touch her back.

"We have not shared a bed in a long, long time." He hesitated, raising a hand to run it over the same places only a moment ago Padme's fingers had touched. "A long time. I can't have you touch me any more. I can't touch _you_ anymore. It wouldn't be right."

"Not right?!" Padme, sitting beside him, looked aghast. "Ani, how can you say that? We are husband and wife! We had to _fight_ for the right to love each other. And now - !"

Anakin drew a deep breath and shoved aside all his shame. If he could tell her, explain it to her, she would understand.

And she would never want him to touch him again.

It would be better that way.

"Look at me, Padme. I. . .we can't. . .I'm not _human_ any more, Padme. I'm not, not really. In this suit," he touched his chest, feeling the dark leather armor, though he could not feel Padme's silky hair. "In here, I am a machine. I don't _feel_ what you feel. It's how I did. . .all those things. It's how I found it so easy to kill. . .to hurt. . .because I can't _feel_ anything. Not really."

"Ani-"

But he had to make her understand. Make her see him for what he was. Anakin had only today come to realize just _what_ it was that he had become. Padme, however, so overcome with the joy of his return, did not really realize what it was she had brought to her bed.

"I could hurt you, Padme. If I touch you. . .I don't know what might happen." He gave a small, self-conscious smile before turning away. "I think you'd agree I'm not the most gentle lover."

The dark was cold now, her warmth far from him. The moon still hung high overhead, though now its glory mocked him; yet still he looked upon it as he waited for Padme to turn away, ask him to leave, to weep silently alone in the darkness.

A small, soft hand rested on his forearm; a butterfly touch on his armor; not as foreign as he thought it would be.

"Anakin, look at me." When he refused, Padme's stubborn side took over. Reaching over, she turned his mask towards her, determination in her eyes.

He wanted to turn away, but that would have been cowardly. Nor could he pull himself away from her touch, without fear of hurting her. He would never, _ever_ hurt her again.

"Ani," she called him again. His thoughts turned back to the small smile that graced her lips as she sighed.

"You can be such an idiot."

As if he needed her to tell him that. Anakin was all too aware now of his shortcomings. Of his failures both as husband and as friend. But Padme was not done.

"You say you're not human. I know that isn't true. You worry about hurting me and I know that would never happen."

"But I-"

"Be quiet, Anakin. You wouldn't, I know. I know because just a few hours ago, you held two newborn babies in your arms and they were both safe and loved there. Two innocent little lives; your children. And you didn't hurt them." Her brown eyes, so full of determination, as if she was in the midst of battle, shown in the darkness. "They were loved; you love Luke and Leia. You even admitted it. How can you not _feel_ if you love them? You would never hurt them because you love them. Do you love me, Ani?"

In a broken voice, he rasped, "How can you even ask me that?"

Smiling, Padme reached for his hand. "Then you would not hurt me. You did once; and I know that is why you are afraid to touch me now. But things are differnet."

Gently, when he did not fight her, Padme took his hand in hers and slowly removed his glove.

"You feel, my beloved. You love, and that in itself is a wonderful, terrifying, glorious feeling. And if you feel, if you _love_, then you _are_ human!"

And she brought his hand, with its pale, dead skin up to her face and ran it over her cheeks; wiping away all the tears she now shed silently. Padme cried softly, unable to believe her proud husband thought himself as less than human. And when all her tears were gone, Anakin sat amazed as Padme brought his hand to her lips and kissed each of his fingertips, as though worshiping his monstrous, mutilated body.

"You don't have to be afraid." She told him, moving closer, so that only a small space separated her face from the exterior of the mask. His hand, she now placed over her heart. "Remember what we had together on Naboo, my love. Remember?" when he nodded, she smiled.

"It was those memories that kept me sane all this time. Knowing you had once loved me like that."

"Nothing has changed." He sighed, the words sounding harsh to his ears when compared to his wife's gentle voice. "I still love you. I love you more than I have the words to tell you."

"Then you can feel, you idiot." Padme gave a small, triumphant laugh and reached out to wrap her arms around his neck and braced her head under his chin. Anakin found himself wrapping his own arms around her, holding his wife close as she snuggled into his lap.

"I guess I can." He admitted, not sure what to make of it all.

Another miracle. Two in one day. Three, if he counted his and Obi-wan's new understanding. But he did not want to think of his former master just now. Or even the twins. Just Padme. Just his wife.

Slowly, promising himself to be careful, Anakin laid back down on the bed. Padme snuggled up next to him and closed her eyes.

She was asleep the next moment.

Skywalker watched her dream for a long, long time. He did not need to sleep; he could stay up all night and watch her, hold her close. It was the one thing he had so greatly longed to do again. Anakin had thought moments like these stolen from him forever.

In the darkness, with only the moon as his silent witness, Anakin lifted his uncovered hand to Padme's face and brushed aside the hair that had fallen into her face.

The touch was unlike anything he had ever felt before.

Gentle, as to not disturb her sleep; he brushed the back of his hand across her face, his palm across her temple. His thumb caressed her lips and inside the mask, Anakin wept in great, gasping sobs.

For here in his arms lay an angel of unimaginable beauty and compassion.

He did finally sleep. The darkness was kind and it wrapped his heartbroken, miserable self in dreams. In his sleep, he could truly hold his love; touch her with all the passion that flooded his heart. And Padme laughed, reminding him of what a fool he was, to think himself unable to love or feel.

Deep asleep, Anakin pressed his mask into his Padme's hair and dreamed of her scent. In the morning, when he woke, she was gone, feeding the twins. But her scent, real or imagined, lingered on the sheets.

If it felt strange to awake in a bed after all this time, at least, Anakin decided, it was a feeling.

Somehow, in the darkness of night, where all secrets can be revealed without shame, Padme had broken through the shield of ice the Dark Lord and build around himself, to protect both Anakin within and his loved ones without.

Healing. Remembering but also forgiving the past. Obi-wan was right. To move on, to change, he had to heal.

Padme still loved him.

He had never stopped loving her.

It was just one more, single step toward redemption. Toward healing. His being able to feel again; that was a sign of this. Moving forward.

Rising from the bed, he heard Padme cooing to the twins as they received their breakfast in the other room. Quietly, so as not to wake the still sleeping form of his friend Obi-wan, snoring peacefully on the common room couch, Anakin made his way outside and stood in the bright sunlight.

How long since he had felt the sun?

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Chapter One To Be Continued

Caslia :D


	4. The Days Following: Chapter 3

Chapter One

_The Days Following

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_

Immediately following _Rebirth of the Light

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_It must have been the third or fourth night after the birth of his children that Vader was woken from a deep sleep, lying beside Padme on her bed, by the most horrendous, shrill scream he had ever heard. 

For a moment, he was sure he was back in some battle somewhere. He could almost see the red blade slicing through the woman as she screamed at him in terror.

But the screaming persisted after the unknown individual was dead and the image faded from his fogged brain.

Anakin, realizing where he was and what the noise was, grave a groan and pushed himself off the bed and stumbled out of the room.

Passing through the hall, he glanced at the clock to find it was six in the morning and the sun was just getting ready to rise up over the horizon. The sky was still very dark outside and even Sabé, who was the first one up making breakfast every morning, wasn't awake yet.

The Dark Lord was about to comment on his children's unusual sleeping patterns to the rest of the household, when he heard voices whispering to each other in the nursery. Recognizing them as his wife's and Obi-wan's, he quickly shielded his presence and engaged in something he had not done in some time: eavesdropping.

The twins had stopped crying as they greedily enjoyed their breakfast, but neither the Jedi Master nor Skywalker's wife were as happy as the babes.

"Padme, are you sure? Understand that this is all still very much of a shock for Anakin. It hasn't even been a week since he released himself from Palpatine's influence. He's got a lot of emotional baggage he needs to deal with right now."

"I realize that, Obi-wan. But I don't think it's asking too much of him to spend a little time with the twins today." Padme replied evenly, shifting the children in her arms.

"Anakin doesn't know what to do with them. That's why he keeps his distance. Besides loving and protecting them, he doesn't know what it means to be a father. And that's understandable, considering he never had one himself."

"He had you."

"Yes," Obi-wan replied bitterly, running a hand through his hair. "And look how miserably I failed him."

His friend sighed, giving him a look that said she had had enough of his self-disgust and turned to place her son in his crib. Leia, unhappy to be separated from her brother, grunted and pushed till Padme put her inside as well.

"Don't make me threaten to break your arm again, Kenobi." Anakin's wife glared mockingly at him, smiling all the while. "You know I can."

"I know." Obi-wan replied, smiling himself.

"So are we in agreement? Today, Anakin spends time with the children. Luke and Leia need their father, Obi-wan. He wasn't returned to us just so he could mope about. I know he wants to hold them and play with them. He's just afraid. Maybe if you were there to help him - "

"_Me_?!" The Jedi replied. "Take care of the twins? Padme, please, be serious. I don't know the first thing about children. And kids tend to hate me anyway. What am I supposed to do with them? I'm a Jedi! Jedi don't have babies!"

Smiling, Padme reached into the crib and handed the still sputtering man one of the twins.

"Then this will be an education for you both."

She didn't even look at Obi-wan again, and, totally ignoring his continued protests, left the room. She passed Anakin on the way out and nodded in his direction absentmindedly. "Diapers in the second drawer on the left." was all she said to him before disappearing down the corridor.

Cautiously, Skywalker looking into the room to see his former master holding Leia up against his shoulder and rocking her softly.

"There, there." He was saying, "I know your tummy hurts. There, there."

He looked up when Anakin's dark form entered the room and his expression was pitiful.

"You wouldn't happen to know how to make a baby burp, would you?"

"No." he answered simply.

He was reaching over for Luke, who was fussing and kicking his legs in the air when Leia chose that moment to gurgle and then sprew all down the back of Obi-wan's Jedi robes.

The older man, baby still against his shoulder, froze and seemed incapable of reacting. So it was up to a laughing Anakin to remove his daughter from Kenobi's arms and wipe her little mouth with a wet rag. Then, holding both twins, he took a seat on the nearby couch.

"Just look at it this way," the Dark Lord laughed. "One of these days, you can remind her of this incident, how she threw up all over you, and she'll be so embarrassed that she ever did that to her dear, Uncle Obi."

"She better." Kenobi muttered, before himself laughing and going to wash off.

Padme was right; the following hours were an education for both men.

The routine was quickly established, in which Padme said she would feed the twins early, right at noon, and then sometime just before sunset. The rest of the day, Luke and Leia were in the hands of Obi-wan and Anakin: Jedi babysitters.

It was a real test for both. Kenobi, Jedi Master and renounced general of the Clone Wars, had never really held a baby before, much less concerned himself with them. If they had been a little older, at the age where they could be entertained by faces, strange noises and the occasional toy, he might have had an easier time. As it was, he was reduced to standing over their cribs and waving a stuffed Wookie back in forth to get them to smile.

Leia always laughed at her uncle. She seemed to take a great amount of pleasure in his ignorance.

Anakin, the ever-worried father, had it worse than his friend, however.

Obi-wan had been right when he said Skywalker didn't really know what it meant to be a father. He wasn't sure what was expected of him. Padme had to give birth to them, feed them and hold them when they cried. That left clothing, cleaning, burping and entertaining them. Anakin knew he didn't have to be with them the whole time, as young children needed to sleep a lot, but he still felt uncomfortable leaving them alone even then.

There was also another problem.

Being gentle.

By the end of the first day, he had decided babies were both the most delicate and fiercest things he had ever encountered.

Picking them up, changing their clothes. All of it required a gentle touch Vader was sure he was incapable of. His hands seemed so huge and monstrous when he tried to tie the little bows in Leia's downy hair. Luke, who now smiled and gooed every time he saw his father, was so incredibly tiny to Anakin's mind. He could brace his son's head simply with the palm of his hand.

It brought back images of women clutching their own babes in their arms, backing slowly away from him. The fear and yet the determination in their eyes. Their bloody or burned bodies still holding their screaming children.

Images he struggled to block from his mind when he held his own children. He would not darken their light with his own sins.

But the memories would come back in the night.

So he spent more and more time in the nursery, or outside, with the twins. Holding them close. Protecting them, loving them with every part of himself that was still good and whole.

The dead parts he hid from both himself and the twins.

Luke grew stronger in the Force almost every day. Not so much as to move objects or anything like that. But he could reach out and touch all the minds around him, expressing his needs or that of his sister's in that childish blur of emotions.

He did this on the very first day, surprising Anakin and Obi-wan so much that at first neither of them realized what Luke wanted, only that he was calling to them.

Then Obi-wan sniffed the air and turned away, pale. "He desperately needs to be changed."

Anakin, who couldn't smell anything due to the mask only pumping unscented air into his lungs, picked up his son hesitantly. "I'll take your word for it." Carrying Luke as far from him as he could, he brought the boy over to the changing table and removed the diaper. Kenobi watched in morbid curiosity from the other side of the room.

"How can so much come out of something so small?!" the Master demanded.

Skywalker didn't have an answer for that, so he simply removed the ruined plastic underpants and handed it to the Jedi. "Here, dispose of this."

Taking the offending thing between thumb and index, Kenobi deposited it in the trash chute and retrieved a clean one while Anakin wiped down his son's bottom. Luke giggled at that. It must be rather funny to see a Sith Lord, especially one as terrifying as this one, changing a diaper.

After, the two men tried to figure out just what it was they were supposed to dust the baby with, as all the bottles on the counter looked the same. Luke sneezed just as they were trying to apply the powder and Kenobi got a mouth full.

This was soon followed with a war with the diaper, as the instructions seemed to have been lost and neither man had any idea of how to put it on him correctly.

Just as Leia, who was being ignored, began to cry from the crib, Sabé came into announce lunch was ready, took one look at the situation and started laughing.

The young woman, well versed in childcare, took Luke from Anakin, completely unaware she was touching him without fear, fixed the diaper and moved on to calm Leia. In a moment of her spare time, she threw Obi-wan a wet rag and told him to clean up.

That left the two babysitters with nothing to do but watch both children as Sabé lay them both down to sleep.

"I believe we may be in over our heads." Obi-wan observed, brushing the powder out of his beard. "Who knew taking care of babies could be such a challenge."

"I've known easier Jedi missions." Anakin agreed, looking down upon his children affectionately. Leia, like her mother, had a tendency to snore slightly in her sleep. "They have so much of Padme in them."

"And you as well."

That was both an enduring and uncomfortable thought. "Let's hope not too much."

But Obi-wan smiled and laid a hand on his friend's arm. Anakin almost jumped when he did that. Contact. He was still getting used to it. "Come on, Anakin." Obi-wan grinned. "You and I both know they're going to have plenty of that Skywalker stubbornness in them. They'll give you a run for your credits one of these days, see if they don't."

Then Sabé was at their side again, reminding them of lunch being ready.

She didn't seem so aloof around him anymore. The handmaiden felt better about Skywalker now, after seeing him with the children. Whatever transformation Vader had undergone at their birth, Sabé decided that if he could be so gentle with the twins as she had just seen, there must be some goodness left in him after all.

"We'll be right there." Obi-wan assured her. But when he turned back to Anakin, the other had walked to the cottage door. "Where are you going?"

Skywalker replied, "Outside." When Obi-wan continued to look confused, he simply gave a self-conscious shrug.

It dawned on Kenobi then that Anakin had not been coming to any of the meals, had never even entered the kitchen where the family tended to gather. And the reason behind this was strikingly obvious. Shame-faced, he looked at his friend.

"Outside. . ." Awkwardly, he gestured toward the kitchen, "You can't . . . ?"

"No."

"Then how do you . . . ?"

Shrugging again, Anakin looked away. "I have equipment back on my ship. It allows me to breath outside the mask for a time. Unfortunately, my system can't take regular food." He didn't want to tell Obi-wan he had to eat pastes and vitamin pills, or take food injections when he was unable to retreat to the breathing chamber. He still had a little pride left.

Obi-wan, however, seemed to understand completely, and the look on his face was one of absolute sympathy.

"Force, Anakin, I didn't know."

Shrugging for the third time, the Sith Lord headed for the door. "Doesn't matter. Actually, if you don't mind, I think while you all have lunch and the twins are asleep, I'll head back to my ship for a little while."

Numbly, Kenobi nodded his agreement and watched as his best friend left the cottage.

He went into the kitchen after that and found Padme and Sabé already eating. Today's lunch was one of his favorite soups, with fresh baked garlic bread, ripened cheese and green grapes. It looked delicious. But suddenly, he wasn't hungry any longer.

* * *

Vader hadn't realized how long the walk was from his ship to the cottage. Before, there had been voices whispering to him, urging him onwards, and suddenly he had been in front of the cottage. Hearing Padme crying inside.

Feeling terrified and hopeful all at once.

Now, there were no voices, and the sudden realization of the silence in his head was a shock. For weeks the voices had been there, calling from the shadows in the darkened corners of his chambers. They had been the sound of the sheets as he moved in his pathetic excuse for a bed. Or the stomping of feet as troopers in long legions marched past him.

Constant.

Now, they had fallen silent and had said nothing to him for the three or four days he had been on Thantinia.

What had become of them?

Anakin considered this as he walked at a steady pace away from the cottage to the barely-visible ship in the distance. A part of him was certain he had been mentally unstable for a time. That would certainly explain the voices. Driven to madness by grief.

In the few days since then, he had considered this reason might also explain his 'fall from grace', his turning to the Darkness. But at the same time, he knew it had been his own ambition, his fear and darkness within himself that had eventually brought him to this sorry end. So, he could not truly accept madness as a reason for anything. Too easy to accept it was not his fault that way.

And that wasn't right. It was his fault. All of it.

It had been all along.

The ship, almost in front of him now, was cold and imperialistic. He longed to turn around and walk straight back to the cottage. To Padme and her compassion. To Obi-wan, and the twins.

Instead, he reached out and palmed the door.

He wasn't about to let fear control him any longer. If he had become such a coward, as he would run from a ship, a metal shell, then how could he stand up to his past? Stepping inside, he headed straight to breathing chamber, intending to do what was necessary in it as quickly as possible, then leave again.

Shuddering, Vader climbed the stairs and looked down upon the chair within. It was surrounded by mechanics all put there for his convenience. Some removed his helmet, others brought food. There was a view screen; even controls he could use to direct the piloting from in here.

It was like a cage.

His 'sanctuary.'

Vader scoffed, entered the chamber and sat. The black shell closed around him and pure air rushed in. Within this chamber, he could remove his helmet. Could breath on his own for a little while. The mechanical arms helped him with this and Darth stared, eyes wide with terror and disgust, at the image in the black, empty holo screen across from him.

A scarred, scared looking young man stared back.

If not madness, Vader reflected, what was it that had brought him here? What was it that had sought out his family and returned him to them, a torn and bloody soul in need of healing, of kindness?

There seemed to be only one answer left to him. One he was even less willing to accept than insanity. But he could not help feeling this answer was the right one.

The Force.

If it was the Force, why? This happened to me for a reason. Nothing happens without a reason, a purpose. Right? Surly this hadn't been done to him out of some cruel joke. Yes, he deserved it, to look this way. To be this monster, both inside and out. It was proper punishment for all his crimes against those who had been his friends. His family.

But why, if he was meant to one day return to that family, to become Anakin Skywalker again, would the Force chastise him this way?

There were no answers.

No voices either.

There were too many things he didn't want to think about. There was the Emperor, who would no doubt begin searching for his wayward apprentice. There were his duties as the Empire's second in command, his abandoned credit accounts he would need to figure out how to access here, the proper conditions needed for him to bathe. A thousand things he needed to consider.

All Anakin wanted to think about was getting back to his little family.

Skywalker ate a silent meal, if you could call it that, his mind ablaze with questions he knew would have no answers. Afterwards, he packed a small bag of provisions: an extra, miniature breather in case of an emergency, tools so he might work on the controls on his armor, and extra vitamin needles so he wouldn't have to come back anytime soon.

He never wanted to come back again. Ever. But, like most things, it was out of his hands. Anakin accepted he would have to leave it up to the Force.

The irony was not lost on him.

* * *

Another day passed. And then another.

Five days in all since the twins' birth. It seemed both swift and dreadfully slow to Anakin. He was waiting for something. But he didn't quite know what.

In the mean time, Obi-wan and the twins kept him entertained.

There were no more diaper episodes. After the first time, they had it down. Leia even got changed now as well. Holding the babes became more and more natural, and eventually Obi-wan even tried burping the elder twin again. Leia proved quite cooperative now that her uncle was doing it correctly. No more bile-stained Jedi robes appeared in the laundry.

After being informed by Sabé of the adventure her boys had had in the nursery that first day, Padme joined her family there and watched on with motherly pride as the Jedi and Sith played with the children.

She was still concerned over her husband's timidity when around the babes, but for the moment she was content to let it be.

"He's got my eyes." Anakin proclaimed that afternoon, holding his son in his arms and smiling down at him. "Did you notice?"

"I did." His wife assured him, coming to stand beside him and rest a hand on Luke's little head. The child cooed, staring up at his parents. He tugged at one of his toes, drooled and then hiccupped.

Skywalker laughed. He was pleased to see that when he did, Luke didn't cower at the sound of his harsh, mechanical voice.

"Here," Obi-wan handed Leia to her mother. "I think she's just about had enough of me. Can't blame her, either. There's only so many times you can hear the story of _'This L__ittle Jedi Went to the Temple'_ and still want to have toes."

Lovingly wrapping her daughter in a blanket and holding her close, Padme leaned against Anakin and sighed. Luke and Leia smiled toothlessly at one another, sharing some private joke between them.

From across the room, Kenobi took a shuddering breath.

"What is it?" Skywalker asked, looking up.

"You just look so. . ." Obi-wan searched for a word, couldn't find one and pretended to be brushing his hair back so as to rub at his misting eyes. "This looks like it would be a great family holo."

"No."

"Oh, Anakin, why not?!" Padme beamed up at him. "All four of us together! We don't have a holo of the twins yet. We need one to remember them when they were this small!"

"Padme," Anakin started to say, "I'd rather not-"

Just then, Luke chose that moment to hiccup, gurgle and whimper loudly.

"Luke?" Skywalker looked down at his son. The baby squirmed in his father's arms, his Force sense aggravated. He struggled, pushing aside his blanket and cried out again. Anakin watched helplessly as his son's face turned a bright red and Luke continued to make choking sounds. "Luke! What's wrong?!"

"Ani, what is it?!" Padme immediately handed Leia to Obi-wan, who juggled the little girl as she too now became irritated, feeling her twin's annoyance.

Anakin swept his son with his Force touch as at the same time opening his little mouth and praying there was nothing stuck down there. He bent over, trying to hold Luke at the same time, as the baby was fighting him all the way.

Then Luke gave one last whimper, and coughed.

A gooey green and yellow mass of something flew out of the baby's mouth and splattered all over Anakin's mask.

Skywalker blinked. Luke gurgled happily and waved his arms around.

For a moment, none of the adults knew quite what to do. Then Padme started to laugh and Obi-wan, still holding Leia, chuckled behind his hand. The twins joined in. Anakin, for his part, was only vaguely aware that he was now the day's amusement, as the gooey mass of saliva and snot covered one of his lenses and the triangular nose portion of his mask.

His first thought was of potential suffocation. His next was utter disgust.

"Could someone please hand me something to clean this off with?" But both Obi-wan and Padme were too busy laughing, both of them struggling not to drop the babies. Leia was quickly returned to her crib, but Luke got crushed against his mother's chest till he gave a cry of protest and joined his sister.

Anakin realized he had probably never been so happy.

And if this was what it meant to be a father, the diapers, the late night feeding, the messes and all the snot and drool; if this it what it all meant, he knew then, without a doubt, that he was cut out for the job.

Apparently, Luke had known it too.

* * *

Chapter One To Be Continued

;) Caslia


	5. The Days Following: Chapter 4

Continuation of Chapter One:

_The Days Following

* * *

_Immediately following _Rebirth of the Light

* * *

_The feeling of waiting for something came to an end when a whole week had passed since the twin's birth. 

Anakin later knew he should have realized what it was. Why he felt the way he did, as though something unpleasantly unavoidable was going to happen. But he had been so wrapped up in his children, in lying beside Padme each night and actually _laughing_ with Obi-wan, it had simply slipped his mind.

Perhaps that was how Yoda wanted it. To catch him unawares, vulnerable.

It was a cruel thing to think of the little Jedi Master, but it seemed to be the truth. Yoda had always been that way. There was no reason to think these few months had changed that.

Either way, there was no doubt that sooner or later their confrontation would happen.

Skywalker would have preferred later.

As the sun was shining and the rest of his family was either having lunch or, thankfully, sleeping, Anakin left the cottage for some time alone to think. This was not uncommon for him now. He would put the twins down for their afternoon nap, bid the others an enjoyable meal, and head out toward the oak grove not too far away.

Usually, he would find a private place amongst the trees. There, he would remove one of the vitamin needles from his belt. He never thought any farther after that about what he was doing, as the very act itself disgusted him.

Following that, he would rise and walk farther into the little grove, finding a quiet spot to meditate and consider his new life. And the old one.

But when Anakin came to the spot he usually occupied, a glen where an age- old stump rested, he found his place taken.

"Welcome, Chosen One."

At the sound of the familiar voice, and the sight of the Jedi Master sitting on the tree stump, Skywalker froze.

It hit him then, like a bolt of lightning, that this was it. The moment he had been dreading since waking up that first morning in Padme's bed. He knew he should have known it would come to this. Himself, alone. With Master Yoda.

It was like being back in the Council room that first day.

Only, now there was no Master Qui-gon encouraging him and saying it would be alright. And this time, he really did have a reason to be afraid.

His judgment day had come.

"Master Yoda." He replied shakily, bowing in respect. The little master nodded, then motioned to a spot beside him on the grass.

"Sit with me, will you? Meditating I was. Good place this is, for thinking." Yoda said, looking up at the leafy canopy, "So full of life. Of Light."

Not knowing what to say to that, Anakin moved and sat gracefully on the grass beside the stump. He was so tall that if he sat in the meditative position, even with the other on the remnant of the tree, they were eye to eye. Metaphorically speaking.

The little master stared at him a long, long time. Unable to meet his eyes, fearing the disapproval there, Anakin kept his gaze riveted on the ground.

"Knew, I did, that there was a reason the Force did this. All of this. Death of the Jedi, destruction of the Republic. But, understand it, I do not. Just as, understand I do not, why brought you here, the Force did." When Skywalker looked up at him then, intrigued, the Master narrowed his eyes and the Sith turned away again. "The Force, it was, was it not?"

"I - I don't know, Master." Anakin admitted. "There were voices. In my head. They told me to come. Said that I would find what it was I wanted most. So, eventually, the Emperor-" he choked on that name, tasting its poison for the first time. "Palpatine, he - he let me come. . ."

"Know where you have gone, does he?"

"No."

"Good." Yoda nodded, considering. "Then safe we are, from him." He glanced over at the dark figure beside him then, somehow still looking down his nose at Skywalker though they were temporarily the same height. "What say you, Vader? Safe, are we?"

"Yes, Master. I think so." He could not bring himself to speak any louder than a soft whisper. Darth was not afraid. But he was humbled. And Yoda knew it.

"Hrmf!" Yoda replied. Then, picking up his gimmer stick that had been lying beside him, he whacked Vader's helmet with it. The Sith cringed, but took the beating. "Safe, are we? Safe? Your children, Skywalker, protected are they?"

Anakin moved to nod, thought better of it with the ringing in his ears. "Yes, they are. I will never let anything happen to Luke and Leia. Master, I know I have done many things wrong. I know I have failed you and committed terrible. . . horrible crimes. But - " He took a deep breath, looking at the little master, "I love them."

"Love." Nodding, Yoda sighed. "Yes, love them, you do. But, think you, that love is enough?"

Anakin thought about that before replying. "At one time I didn't. I thought a person needed so much more than love to make it in this galaxy. But now, now I wonder how I could have been such a fool to think that. I look at Padme and the twins. . .I see Obi-wan smiling, something he hasn't done in nearly two years, and I know. As long as I love them, nothing else matters."

The Jedi considered the other's words, appearing to be in deep thought. When Yoda at last looked at him again, it was with a small spark of sadness in his eyes.

"Say you, you will never let anything happen to the Jedi children. Protect them you will. Ask you this, I do. What do you think will happen after this? Who will you be?"

The question was simple, but Anakin knew there had to be more to it. Nothing was as straightforward as it seemed with Yoda.

"I will be their father." He replied. "I will love them, protect them. Be there for them. I will be a husband to Padme, a - a friend to Obi-wan. I am Anakin Skywalker now. Vader is still a part of me; I _am_ still Darth Vader in many ways. But I won't be the man I once was. I've changed."

"Have you?"

That question caught him off guard.

And then Anakin had to ask himself: hadn't he? Well, yes. He grieved over the things he had done. He regretted them, though he realized now it was all meant to happen, one way or another.

But yes, he had changed.

Hadn't he?

"Master?" he asked at last, unable to find an answer. Surly, he was not that same man who had . . .

The image flashed back to him, the mother with the baby in her arms, weeping tears of blood as she died. The child, a Jedi child, like his own Luke and Leia, died shortly after his mother. Vader had abandoned him there in the street, still wrapped in the blood-soaked blanket, crying out for protection. For love.

Shuddering, Darth pulled himself from the vision. There were tears streaming down his ruined cheeks. He could not wipe them away. "Master?" he asked again, this time the plea in his voice clear.

Yoda sighed deeply, looking more aged than ever as he sat upon that stump, pondering the transformation from Jedi to Sith and back again.

"Told you once before, I did." He finally replied after an intolerably long moment. "Warned both you and your master, Obi-wan, did I. Once you start down the Dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny. Listen, you did not. A terrible price, did you pay." His eyes seemed cold. Skywalker knew a great fear then, one not too unlike the one he felt in the Emperor's presence. Yoda nodded to him slowly. "Over, your suffering is not."

The glen was silent. There had been birds singing here only a few minutes ago. Sensing what was coming, they had flown.

In the emptiness, Anakin could have sworn the Jedi Master could hear the beating of his terrified heart. Taking a deep breath, he asked the question he would rather have left unanswered.

"What is it you are trying to tell me, Master?"

"Leave." Yoda stated simply. "Go. Depart Thantinia as quickly as possible, you must. Realize you must that stay with Padme and the children, you cannot. Sith, you are, and as such, destroy their future in the Light, you do. Safe, it is not, for you to stay with them." With each word, Anakin's fear grew and with the need to take action, to stop all of this, he rose to his feet. He shook his head, not wanting to believe, but Yoda was not to be dissuaded.

"Lead the Emperor to them, you will. Best it is, that you go. Return to the Empire, you cannot. Know your mind, Palpatine does. Go into exile, you must. Till trained the children are." Nodding, Yoda descended from the stump, ignoring the horrified Anakin now backing away from him.

"Best it is." He repeated.

"No," Skywalker found himself saying, "No! It is not best! These are my children!"

Didn't Yoda understand? Couldn't he see? Without the children, without Padme and Obi-wan and their love, there was nothing. They had brought him back, gave him a chance to change.

"Master, I cannot leave them! They need me. And I need them. Without them, I would still be that man that murdered the Jedi. I would be that - that _monster_ I became after Mustafar. How can I just abandon them, just run away? I will not be that coward again!"

"Coward, you fear being?" Yoda demanded. "Fool, you are being now. Realize, do you not, that soil the children, you do? With your Darkness? With your sins?"

Breathing hard, Anakin fought for control. His anger was rising, but his fear was stronger. And that was more dangerous than his temper. He had to remain calm. Otherwise, he would only prove Yoda right. That he could not be with his twins, that he was a threat to them.

His breath slowed and his heart calmed somewhat at such a thought.

"Master, please. Yes, I am a Sith. Or, at least," and here he was confused and uncertain, "I am no longer a Jedi. Not yet one again, anyway. But I can change! I know I can. I would do anything to stay with Luke and Leia. I know what I did was wrong and there is nothing, _nothing_ that would even begin to make up for it."

"But please," Anakin whispered, "do not take my family from me. I made the mistake once to push them away. It was the gravest crime I ever committed, hurting them. I would do anything to see that never happens again."

He fell silent, not knowing what else to say. What else _could_ he say? Yoda looked at him with his wise eyes, seeing through him. Reading his thoughts. Knowing his heart.

There was only the silence and the waiting for a long, long time.

Then the Jedi Master sighed and turned away. With slow steps, he began to hobble his way out of the glen. Anakin was left kneeling, watching him go, his heart beating so fast he thought he might die.

Yoda paused at the edge of the glen, glanced back at him once, and spoke.

"Do anything you would, so as not to cause your family more pain?" When Anakin nodded numbly at this, the master replied simply, "Then leave tomorrow, you will. Before the sun rises and forced to say goodbye, they are."

Slowly, he turned and left.

There was pain. A great amount of it. More than he had known when his body was being devoured by lava. More than when he had thought Padme had betrayed him, when Obi-wan condemned him. When his mother died. This pain was searing. It burned through his chest, through the armor, to where his heart lay.

For his children's sake, could he abandon them?

The silence of the glen, where no birds called in the late afternoon, was broken only by his harsh breathing. The answer to such a question was not an easy one to accept.

Vader bent his head into his hands and, in the quiet of the clearing, meditated. It was a true struggle to keep both the anguish and the anger suppressed. He had, he decided, brought this upon himself.

In the distance, its light radiating brilliantly through the trees, the sun began to set.

* * *

Late afternoon and the twins were awake again.

It was this that first alerted Obi-wan to something being wrong. Usually after lunch, both Luke and Leia would settle down and eventually fall asleep. They would nap until early in the evening, only to stay awake crying a good portion of the night.

For them to have woken up, some two hours after meal time and Anakin still not back from where ever it was he wondered off to during these times, was worrisome.

Not long after, the first feelings began to tug at Kenobi.

It was like a warning in the Force, but more than that. While warnings could be both extremely subtle or dangerously obvious, this had more of an undertone to it. It was an emotion, not a _feeling_ of the Force, trying to warn him. And in only a few minutes, it grew terribly strong, so much that Obi-wan feared the worst.

Pain. Deep-seeded, unimaginable pain from some place deep within his heart. Like a part of his soul had been ripped and torn from him. Only, it was being suppressed, ignored. Otherwise, it might be overwhelming.

He knew that feeling. Obi-wan had felt it before. On a lonely ridge of rock on a distant planet of lava and agonizing memories.

Anakin.

No sooner had he realized the cause of such feelings, had he felt his friend's anguish in the Force, did the twins start crying. Luke, the more sensitive of the two, could not be calmed and continued to give dry, heaving sobs even with Padme holding him.

"Obi-wan," the former queen looked desperately at him. "Something has happened. It's Ani. I know it. Something has happened to him."

Not wanting to frighten her further, the Jedi only nodded and reached for his cloak. On the way out the door, he turned to Sabé. "If anything happens, to either me or Anakin, and you don't hear back from me after dark, take Padme and the children. Get them out of here. My ship is still at the capital; use it to get to the rebellion. You'll be safe there. Understood?"

Sabé knew her duty. Instead of agreeing, she leaned in and kissed him softly. "Be care." She whispered, then disappeared back inside.

After he was sure both women were safe inside and that there was no physical threat nearby, Obi-wan set off after his friend into the oak grove, following a trail only a Jedi could sense.

He was not the only one walking it.

Only a few minutes after he had set out from the cottage, with the sun sinking ever lower, a small shadow appeared from between the trees. Master Yoda emerged, deep in thought.

Sensing the apprentice of his former padawan, the little Jedi glanced up and nodded in passing.

"Master Yoda." Kenobi stopped him, "have you felt it? Anakin! Something is wrong. The Force calls out and I -" Seeing his elder shaking his head, Obi- wan froze. "Master? What is it?"

"Concern yourself with Vader, you should not. The twin children, your charges, are they now. Go back to the cottage, Obi-wan. The future, there, it is."

Realizing Yoda would say no more, knowing he did not want Kenobi to go on, only made Obi-wan more worried. Something _had_ happened to Anakin. And Obi-wan wasn't about to leave him alone. Not anymore.

Stepping around the little master, much to Yoda's disappointment, he continued on down the path. Yoda did not try to stop him; rather, he glanced at the sun. Its blood-red rays washed his green face in strange hues. Grimly, he turned away.

The feelings, though still suppressed, was not as strong when Kenobi finally arrived at the clearing, a little out of breath and rather disheveled. But he was in wonderful shape considering the other man, who half knelt, half leaned against a gnarled old tree stump. Anakin, shuddering within his armor, struggling for breath, rose slowly to his feet.

When he succeeded, his gaze swept across the glen and came to land on Obi- wan, standing froze just within the tree line.

For a long moment, they just stared at each other.

"Anakin." Carefully, Obi-wan stepped forward.

Was it possible for a redeemed Sith to turn back to the Darkside? There he had no answers. And he was vaguely aware that he had left his lightsaber back at the cottage.

If that had been a mistake, it would be his last. Skywalker's hung at his belt.

"Anakin," he said again, when the other hadn't moved or spoken. This time, there was a response. The Sith looked away, his hand gripping the tree tightly. "Anakin - Force. What happened? I - I felt - Anakin, what's wrong?"

The other gave no response, only steadied himself and turned to walked back down the trail. The pain rolled off him in immense waves. It cut Obi-wan deep and he did not know how to help or make it stop.

"Anakin," he tried again as his friend neared. "Please, tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing is wrong, Master. It is the will of the Force." The Dark warrior replied, his voice a harsh whisper in the cooling air. He tried to move Kenobi out of the way as to pass him, but the Jedi wouldn't have any of it. Grabbing hold of the other's arm, he yanked the Sith back and held him.

Vader didn't fight.

"Now you listen to me." Obi-wan heard himself saying. What was this? Was he angry? Yes. . .yes, he was. Not so much at Anakin but for the way he was acting. His voice, though still calm, was as cold as ice. "You listen and you hear me for once. I'm your friend. You understand that? A _friend_. Not 'Master'. I want to help. But to do that, you've got to tell me what's wrong."

When Darth shook his head and tried to pull away, Obi-wan held tighter. Caught off guard, Vader froze. "Don't shut me out, Darth. Don't turn away. You asked me for my help. Remember? Anakin, please. Let me help you."

The shuddering bulk of his friend seemed to have frozen there, beside him. Obi-wan thought he wasn't going to answer. It was though they had become statues, a tableau of struggling emotions.

But Skywalker did speak, and what he said sent shivers down Kenobi's own body.

"Let me go, Obi-wan. Just let me go. I don't want to hurt you." Vader drew a deep, trembling breath, the hiss of his respirator the only other sound. "Never again do I want to hurt you. Please. Just let me go."

Go? Let him go?

At first, Obi-wan thought he meant for the Jedi to release him, let him pass. But there was something in the other's Force sense that told Kenobi otherwise.

And it dawned on him.

"Go where, Darth?" he asked.

The Sith, though the helmet separated them, looked into the other's eyes. "I have to leave, Obi-wan. I am a threat to you. And to the children." He turned away from his former master then, and there was so much sadness there, so much regret, Obi-wan felt a spark of anger again. Who had done this to his friend? Who had made Skywalker doubt himself? "I will not risk your lives or cause you suffering again," he heard Vader say, as if from a distance. But he wasn't listening.

When Vader turned again, to walked back down the path, Obi-wan grabbed his other arm and swung him around. There was the sound of blood rushing in his ears. Something he could not remember hearing before.

"Obi-wan - " The Sith started to say.

"No." Kenobi interrupted. "I don't care what else you have to say. You are not leaving!" Obi-wan wasn't aware he had shaken his former apprentice till Vader's Force sense gave off a wave of shock. But he wasn't through. He had to make Darth understand.

"I am not going to let you leave those children, or Padme. You aren't going to run away from this; you're going to accept it, and overcome it. Just like you've always done. You're going to stay right here with them. Because I am _not_ going to let you leave them again and you sure as _the Force_ aren't going to leave _me_ again _either_."

There was continued silence in the glen; not a bird dared to sing.

"I mean it, Anakin." He finally said, taking a deep breath and looking straight at his friend.

Darth seemed surprised at his friend's cold, yet somehow passionate speech; he didn't quite know what to do. "I've never seen you that angry before." He muttered.

"You'd be surprised." Obi-wan shook his head, ran a hand through his disheveled hair. Pausing, he glanced up at the Sith Lord. His anger had brought him to a dangerous edge just then. "You don't think - ?"

"No." Anakin laughed lightly. "I've never heard of anyone turning to the Darkside because they got angry for the right reasons."

Well, small comfort that was. "Still, you'd think I'd know better. But, Force, Anakin, you can just make me so furious with that hard-headed stubbornness of yours that I - " Feeling his friend smiling, Obi-wan clamped his mouth shut and chuckled. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you did that on purpose just to get me riled up. But then," Obi-wan sighed. "I know you didn't. Anakin, what's wrong?"

The Sith took half a hesitant step back, then seemed to change him mind. Nodding, apparently accepting there was no dignified way he was getting out of this, he motioned for Kenobi to sit and took a seat beside him.

"I spoke with Yoda." That, in Anakin's mind, should have been enough of an explanation. But when Kenobi continued to wait patiently, he was forced to continue.

"He made me think of things I should have taken into account. Like how dangerous it is for me to stay with the twins. I could lead the Emperor here to them, because he knows me, can find me anywhere. And," he sighed, "how I am soiling them with my presence. Because I am a Sith. That's why I have to leave - "

"Stop right there." Obi-wan instructed. "Yoda told you this?"

"Yes."

"To leave? To just abandon your family? Why? Because you are Sith?!"

"Yes."

"But. . . where?"

Skywalker shrugged. Where could he go? Now that he had made the decision that it truly was best to leave, where would he go? "Not back to the Emperor. Just as far away from Padme and the twins as I can get. Till Luke and Leia are trained, and safe."

"Safe?"

"From me."

Obi-wan's face might have been set in stone. "When did he instruct you to go?"

"Tomorrow morning. Before dawn. No goodbyes."

Kenobi was silent a long, long time. He just sat and looked at his former apprentice, his eyes unreadable and his shields up. The Jedi didn't speak again till the birds in the clearing started singing again and the sun had almost set.

"Anakin?"

Cautiously. "Yes?"

"All my life, I have believed conventional wisdom to be the wisest voices to listen to. Because those that have such wisdom have lived longer than I. Have seen more." The redheaded Jedi, his eyes like ice, clenched his teeth. "So you can understand how hard it was to have such a liberal master as Qui- gon, or as reckless and rebellious apprentice as you. But," and here, he smiled. It was a smile without any real warmth to it. "You both taught me something very important. If we become so immersed in our own beliefs, never considering other options or other's opinions, we do not change. We are unable to accept the changes around us, or that _others_ can change. That perhaps our way is not right. I never really understood that. And I'm sorry."

Confused, not to mention a little taken aback, Anakin watched as Obi-wan climbed to his feet, dusted off his robe and pulled Skywalker to his feet. The coldness was back in his eyes, his face one of serenity but also of compassion. Anakin thought it safe to speak.

"I don't think you understand."

But Obi-wan wasn't looking at him. He simply nodded and started walking down the path that led back to the cottage. Anakin followed. "I do. More than you might believe. Listen. When we get home, go and play with the twins. They were already up when I left. Then get a good night's sleep. In the morning, we're going to come back here and meditate. You and I. Together."

"Obi-wan, if it's one thing I learned from all of this, from all my mistakes, is Master Yoda tends to know what is right." Vader shrugged. "He was right when he said as a Sith I am a threat.

"I don't care what he said." The Jedi replied evenly, walking at a pace as if in deep thought. "Yoda said you could not be saved, that there was no chance of redemption. He said you were reckless, irresponsible. Dangerous. And at every word, I agreed because I thought, as my elder, as a Jedi _master_, he should know best. But I never, _never_ will agree to this. I've had enough. He's wrong. Yoda is _wrong_. You _did_ come back, and yes, by the Force, you are reckless and rebellious and damn near get me killed all the time. But. . .you came back. You can back when I thought you were lost forever and proved me wrong. All of us wrong." In the last fading rays of sunlight, Anakin could see the determination on his friend's face.

Obi-wan Kenobi? Questioning Yoda's judgement?

"People change, Anakin. And it doesn't matter if you are Sith or Jedi; you love your family. Your children. Yoda can't understand that. But I do. Now I do. And you are not leaving us."

In the quiet moment between them, Skywalker glanced over at his friend and smiled.

"'Us'?"

"Yes, us." Kenobi replied, find his own smile growing.

It was just after dark when they reached the cottage. The stars shone brightly above, as did the moon, no longer as high overhead as it had been a few nights before. The lights blazing from within were a welcome sight, and when Padme and Sabé saw them, they could hear their relieved laughter.

But for Anakin, that laughter, those words, did not spare him from nightmares that night.

* * *

In the morning, Yoda didn't say anything when he discovered the Sith hadn't left as instructed. After breakfast, the little Jedi Master and Obi-wan went outside for a walk together. The sun had chosen a place high in the sky when a lone figure returned to the cottage. Obi-wan walked in, looking older and mournful. But he sat quietly and ate his lunch without comment.

What was said between the two masters, Anakin would never know. Only that Obi-wan never again spoke of Yoda without sorrow. Sorrow, but not regret.

Yoda had crossed a line with Kenobi that day, when he and Anakin had spoken in the clearing. He had forced Obi-wan to choose between loyalty to the Jedi Order and tradition, and the love he had for a family, one that loved him in return.

For Obi-wan, it wasn't really a choice at all.

* * *

Chapter One To Be Continued

People sometimes say that they love Vader because authors can manipulate things so that at times you get to see his human side. Well, as much as I love that, I get an even bigger kick out of bring out Obi-wan's human side. He can get so Jedi-ish, that I love scenes where he gets protective and shows emotions rather than that calm exterior.

Makes me just wanna. . . I don't know, hug him, or something. :D Tell him how proud I am of him.

Caslia


	6. The Days Following: Chapter 5

Continuation of Chapter One:

_The Days Following

* * *

_

Immediately following _Rebirth of the Light

* * *

_

Nightmares.

A constant during sleep. There is no escape from the visions they force upon the mind. Reminders of the past, shifting, uncertain shadows of the future. Lingering in the subconscious when he woke.

Anakin Skywalker knew nightmares all too well.

His own were far more gruesome then other's. As well they should be. He dreamed of a Tattooine night, of blood spilt in the hazy light of desert fires. Or of screams rising up from his own imagined hell, where the innocent cry. Or of a mask, cut of ebony. This same mask, looming over the fallen form of an angel, wings broken, feathers torn.

It is no wonder, on such a night.

Great roars of thunder, the silent crash of lightening, pierced the formerly peaceful room where he lay. A dark form upon a bed of silk. Beside him, the angel stirred.

But Anakin could no longer sleep.

These dreams, these nightmares, refused to allow him rest. Not the dreams of a burning desert, or of death. Or even the memories of the day he murdered an angel. No, these he had lived with for some time now. These, he were familiar with. Had overcome, to some extent, so that he may glean some few hours of sleep.

But now, there were new nightmares. They were brought to life only a week ago, when he realized the true extent of the threat he imposed upon two innocents.

His children.

These new nightmares were far crueler than their predecessors. Perhaps it is because they were of a possible future, while the others had been of the past. Crimes he could not undo. Sins long ago committed. But these . . . each new dream worse than the last. Dreams of blue lightening, of a city in the clouds and of a great moon of metal that hung above all worlds, threatening their very existence.

Skywalker did not understand these dreams. Nor did he have to. The only question that came to his mind, as he lay there awake, hour after hour, was if these events would be the result of his leaving or remaining with his family?

The Force had no answer for him. It was as silent as the lightening.

The lightening. It bathed his broken body in momentarily brilliant light. But that only maked his darkness all the more obvious. He was like a living shadow, his rumbling breath filling the emptiness.

And then, through the darkness, a new sound reached his ears.

After nearly two weeks, it had become as familiar to him as the sound of his wife's voice. It was one of the twins, Leia, crying.

Rising slowly as to not disturb the slumbering angel, Anakin faded into the shadows. . .

* * *

"There, there," Anakin said gently, lifting his little daughter out of her crib and into his arms.

His Leia's presence was like a balm to his aching soul. She was so small, so innocent. She weighed almost nothing in her father's arms. Her little head had dark, wispy curls, like her mother's. She was strong, despite her small size, and struggled in his arms.

It was the lightening that frightened her. This was the twin's first storm.

Luke, Anakin noticed, wasn't bothered by the flashes, or the spontaneous crashes of thunder. The light-haired boy slept on peacefully.

The elder Skywalker envied him.

"Shhhh, my little princess." The Sith whispered, rocking the crying babe. "My beautiful child. Shhh. It's alright. I'm here."

But Leia seemed completely unaware of her father's efforts to sooth her. Her little face bunched up and great red spots appeared on her cheeks. Crying louder, Leia fought her blanket till Anakin removed it. She hated the noise, she told him. It was loud and terrifying! Make it go away!

But he couldn't. As much as Anakin wanted to reach out a hand and silence the thunder, to darken the room and shield Leia from all of it, he knew better.

A Jedi did not mess with the elements.

A Jedi. . .

The Sith sighed, all too aware of his flaws, and rocked the still crying child. He held her close, whispering simple, sweet things to her. But his heart wasn't in it, and Leia knew it. Her father was as scared and as frustrated as she was. It only made things worse.

Anakin felt his chest tighten, felt the struggling emotions. His frustration grew.

"Don't cry, Leia. Please, don't cry. . ."

_"Don't cry, little one. Please, don't cry! Or else we may be found."_

_He heard the soft voice whispering desperately in the shadows; saw the shape of a woman, her head __bent, retreating. The terrifying form that was Darth Vader turned and with cold, menacing __steps,__ entered the alley._

_The woman looked up when she realized she was no longer alone. __His shape, a single black mass, blocked out all the light from the street.__ She gasped, took a step back._

_There was __nowhere__ to go. __Nowhere__ to hide._

_"Jedi."__ His voice, empty of all emotion, was the only sound._

_The woman took another step back, as though she intended to flee through the very concrete wall behind her. Knowing that some Jedi were actually capable of such things, Vader prepared to attack._

_But when the weeping woman stepped back, out of his shadow, he saw, in her arms, a child._

_A baby__, to be more precise.__Of probably no more than a few months.__ Ah, now it ma__de sense. It was not the mother__ he had been feeling, but a child, untrained, who had let their presence be known._

_Another Jedi those damned masters shall never teach, Vader thought, reaching for it. "Give the child to me." When the woman refused, he reached out with the Force and broke the woman's neck._

_The cry that escaped her lips in the last instant seemed to be a name. Vader thought it might have been Mara._

_As her lifeless body fell, Vader took the child before the woman's hands lost their strength. Her corpse landed on his boots, golden red hair spilling from beneath her shawl. But the __Sith__ never noticed. He was intent only on the child. It __stared__ up at him defiantly, as though it knew him. Knew who he was, and what he had done._

_Sneering, Vader turned and left the alley, not bothering to glance back._

_A new apprentice for his master.__The perfect gift.__ And untrained, uncorrupted mind. She would be a Dark Jedi, a great warrior. Somehow, he knew it._

_"Come, Mara." He muttered, mostly to himself. "You shall make your master proud."_

Mara. . .

Vader had not thought of the little girl for some months now. What had become of her? And why, he was forced to wonder, had he spared her?

The nightmares. They came back again, flooding his mind's eye with their images. Haunting memories burned into his soul forever, the mark of his sins.

He did not want to think of them, wished he had the power to wipe his mind clean, to have nothing but the bittersweet memories of his days spent with his family. But that would be another crime. Skywalker would never forget those he had betrayed, those he had murdered in cold blood. Who had been his friends, his teachers. . .innocents. . .

_The calamari child, old enough to walk, clung to his father's dead body and would not let go. Ah, well. What did it matter? They were both dead. His __lightsaber__, at the back of the boy's neck. . ._

_A hapless __padawan__ who had escaped the destruction of the Jedi temple.__Running, running.__Her eyes wide with terror.__ Darkness. . ._

_A sunlit garden.__Long tresses of blond hair, the girl humming softly as she braided them.__ Dolls scattered at her feet. The wind chimes in the trees masking the sound of his approach. . ._

_The baby.__A newborn.__Screaming.__ The mother, lying still on the bed, had already bled to death. The father and nurses lay crumpled on the floor, the __stormtroopers__' blaster fire having left fatal wounds in their chests. __Screaming.__ He was holding the babe in his arms, blood covering him. Vader crushed the little head in the palm of his hands, so small it fit with ease. The blood and the brain fluid he wiped on the already ruined sheets and turned to leave. One flickering __thought.__ . .that the child's eyes had been brown. . ._

Brown.

Leia looked up at him, gasping for breath between her great wails. Her eyes round and terrified. Brown. His Leia's eyes.

The memories were so strong, Anakin had to push them to the back of his mind, for fear his daughter might see them. But she felt his pain. Force, it was worse than pain. It was the knowledge that he had killed someone else's daughter. Easily. No regret. And that he could do the same to his own.

But she was not afraid of him. Despite everything, his little Leia trusted him.

The lump that had formed in his throat some time ago hardened, and a new sound joined that of the thunder and the child's cries.

Sobbing, Anakin lifted Leia up to his chest and held her there. His body shuddered as great, gasping cries escaped, the lock breaking on the emotional cage he had built for himself. The Sith bent over his child, as if to protect her from the nightmares, the memories, and all the forces of nature that might ever frighten her.

To protect her from himself.

And all he could think of was the dead baby, of the children murdered. Their faces lingered in his mind, mixed with that of his twins, truth dawning on him in the midst of the night. They were more than nightmares, more than crimes committed in the past that he could never undo. They were the bargaining chips he had used to sell away his soul.

I did this, Anakin thought, struggling for breath amidst his tears. I am this thing, this creature. And my family will suffer for it.

Looking down upon his Leia, searching for some light, some small ray of hope, he found her asleep. His daughter, held close to his chest, had calmed at the sound of his heartbeat, as withered and as broken as it was, and drifted off.

Sniffling, Anakin smiled weakly through his tears. "My little princess . . ." he whispered.

"Ani?"

Oh, Force.

_"__Ani__ Please, __Ani__, my love, stop!!! Please, Anakin!! Please!"_

_An angel, so beautiful.__ So damned beautiful, laying on the floor in the fading sunlight that filled the bedchamber. Her dress torn and her hair, so long and tempting, now ragged in disarray. __Pleading eyes, so filled with love.__With fear.__ With pity, damn her!_

_Anakin slapped her again, feeling powerful and all the more furious at the sight of the red mark on her cheek. How she turned her head away, so as he wouldn't see her cry. How dare __she_

_Sabé__, her hair sl__ashed short by his saber, lay barely __conscious in the corner. She whimpered, and Skywalker reached out with the Force to slam her body into the wall again. That should silence her._

_"__Ani__."__Padme__ whispered again, looking away._

_How he hated that name. "Get up, __Padme__Now.__ You're coming with me." The former queen didn't even need to shake her head in defiance. He already knew it would take force to remove her from her precious planet. Away from __Naboo__Padme__ would be weak, his to control. __To love._

_"You love me, don't you, my wife. I know you do." Breathing hard, __lightsaber__ in hand, an idea came to mind and he acted. "Show me how much you love me."_

_He threw the __lightsaber__ to the side, reached for her dress. __Padme__ cried, tried to back away but Anakin had his boot down on her waist in an instant. "Don't you love me, my angel!? Show me you do! Love me, __Padme__! Love me!!!" He ripped at the fabric, trying to get it off as she struggled beneath him._

_A moment later, something hit him in the side, knocking him off __Padme__ and into the wooden bed. His head hit the banister and he groaned. When Anakin could force his eyes open, he watched in fury as his master, his former master__ aided his wife to her feet and the two escaped the room._

_How dare she? How dare she betray him!?!!_

_In a roar of fury, Anakin overcame his blinding headache and made after them. But by the time he reached the hanger, their ship had already disappeared into the clouds high above._

_He had not known __Padme__ to be pregnant then . . ._

"Ani?" his wife's sweet voice asked again.

The memory fell away, but the shame refused to fall away with it. He longed to lower his head, but Darth could not look away from her worried gaze.

"Force, Padme. . . I – I . . .Force blind me!"

He did turn away then, for he could not stand the look of sympathy and understanding in her eyes. Had he ever been so full of hate, of power-lust to do that to his angel? There was a momentary wealth of gratitude toward Obi-wan then. Had his friend not intervened, Skywalker might have raped his own wife that day.

Anakin shuddered at the thought.

"My love," Padme whispered, coming up behind him. The endearment was like another arrow into his heart. "What's wrong?"

"Force, Padme, how can you ask me that?" The tears had seemed to vanish when Leia had calmed. But now they returned, stinging and blurring his vision. Like the memories, he could not dash them away. "How can you even look at me, much less love me, after what I did?"

She balked at that, the memory obviously still fresh to her a well. But shoving it aside, Padme forced herself to call upon the past few days.

They brought a small smile to her face.

"Ani, please. Don't turn away."

Her husband didn't look at her. It was like being back at the Tattooine farmhouse after his mother had died. Being shut out as he struggled with his emotions.

_"You are not all-__powerful, __Ani__."_

_"__Some day__ I will be. I will be the most powerful Jedi of all. I will even be able to stop people from dying."_

Or stop them from living. . .

She shut that thought away, not knowing Anakin had already heard it.

Reaching out, hoping to give at least some measure of comfort, she placed a hand on his shoulder. But, feeling her touch, Anakin pulled away. "Don't."

"Beloved, please-"

"No! Don't you understand?!" He turned back to her then, and Padme realized he was crying. She didn't know how she knew, but she did. Great, gasping sobs behind the mask, where she could not reach him.

Anakin took a deep, shuddering breath and looked down at Leia, still safe and close within the circle of his arms.

_T__he mother with the baby in her arms, weeping tears of blood . . . the infant's head in his __hands .__holding__ Luke after he was born . . . holding his mother as she died._

What had he done?

"Look at me, Padme!" he whispered, then louder, "Look at me! At what I have become! I am a monster!!!" Leia, in his arms. So small. So helpless. "A monster!" Unable to bare her gaze any longer, he turned from his wife and wept, rocking his daughter in his arms.

"What have I become?! What have I _done_?!"

All his fault, all his doing. Thousands dead. Blood on his hands. Worlds enslaved. _I'm __gonna__ see them all one day!_ Qui-gon. . .he had failed him, utterly. His mother must be so ashamed. He was ashamed. Everything he had ever held dear he had cast aside in his quest for power.

What Master Yoda had said, had always known, was true. There was too much fear in him. Too much Darkness.

_Monster!_

A small hand, on his shoulder. Another on his mask, gently caressing the face she could not touch.

Anakin opened his eyes to find his angel before him. Padme was crying, silent tears that ran silver down her face. How could she stand to touch him? But Padme did not hesitate. Slowly, she leaned against him, placing her warm cheek on his cold armor. Leia, between them, was safe and warm. She sighed sweetly in her sleep, feeling both her parents near.

"My beloved Anakin." Padme whispered, her arms encircling the still shuddering form of her husband. "Don't cry. Shhh, don't cry."

Despite himself, Anakin felt his one free arm going around her, the other holding their eldest child close. He was safe here; the memories and all the horrifying past could not reach him while he was wrapped within their love.

"Listen to me, my love. You are not a monster. Never again call yourself that." When he moved to protest, Padme pulled away and looked up at him, her eyes full of love and determination. "You aren't. Not anymore."

"How can you say that? After – "

"Because," the angel replied, smiling. "you still love me. And you love your children." Looking down at their sleeping daughter, Padme sighed and gently took her in her arms. "See? She doesn't cry any more. Leia knows she is safe with you. You, my love, are her protector. Her guardian. Her father."

"Padme," Anakin choked out. "Can you ever forgive me?"

"I did, beloved. Long ago."

The Darkess inside him retreated again, and Anakin gazed upon his angel.

It was surly one of the most beautiful sights he had ever laid his eyes upon. Anakin stared in wonder at the sight before him. His little wife, so full of compassion and kindness, glowed before him, baby in arms, the lightening making both appear not of this world.

Weeping, softly this time, Anakin took her gently into his arms and held Padme close.

Eventually, the storm quieted. They were left alone together in the dark, Leia sleeping between them, Luke in his crib, cooing quietly from time to time.

Some time later, Leia slept again beside her brother as their parents returned to their room. Padme could not sleep, but Anakin, worn out, drifted away the moment he touched the pillow. She lay watching him in the darkness, knowing a small part of a great burden had been lifted from his chest.

Anakin would have to live with the nightmares the rest of his life.

At least for tonight, she was there to comfort him when they returned.

* * *

Caslia 


	7. The Days Following: Chapter 6

Continuation of Chapter One:

The Days Following

* * *

_ONE MONTH_ after Rebirth of the Light

* * *

Peace.

Calm. The Force, flowing gently around him, in harmony with the galaxy. Obi-wan sighed, finding serenity within.

The Jedi Master sat amid the tall grass, looking down from one of the rolling hills upon the cottage where the Skywalker family lived. He would reach out, from time to time, to see that all was well with them. In the two weeks following the storm, everything had been calm. Even Anakin.

Anakin. Obi-wan's brow creased at the thought of his former apprentice.

Padme had come to him the morning after the storm and had told him what her husband had said. Her words had broken his heart, to know that Skywalker had said those things. But at the same time, he had known it was another step toward healing.

If only it didn't have to hurt so much.

But then, no one had ever said redemption would be easy.

At that the Jedi smiled. No had said it could even be done, much less be painless. And yet, Anakin had proved them wrong. As he had done many times in the past. It was good to have the young man back, when they had thought him all but lost. And while there were times Kenobi still wanted to brain his friend, they were closer now than they ever were before.

There were, of course, still complications.

One of them, as Yoda had stated so clearly before his departure, was that Skywalker was a Sith. But where once that name had sent shivers down his spine, Obi-wan had begun to realize that perhaps the Sith themselves were not evil, but the men they could become when drunk with power. Though Anakin still used the Darkside, though only from time to time, he didn't use it to cause harm. There was a lack of anger in him as well.

But where that could eventually be overcome, the Darkness turned into Light, other problems didn't have the same solution. Palpatine was one of them.

What to do about the Sith Master? Anakin refused to speak of him, shuddering and turning away shamed when the Emperor was mentioned. And sooner or later, he would find them. It was, Obi-wan knew, only a matter of time.

The other problem was not as immediate, but it could prove to be a great difficulty for the Skywalker family.

Rebels, the Force told him.

Yes, the Rebel Alliance. Though it was only newly formed, almost as young as the Empire, it had strength behind it. The worlds that refused to join the Empire or be enslaved by the new laws had sent representatives to the freedom fighters, as well as ships, personnel, and their hopes for a New Republic.

And Vader, despite having only been in the Emperor's services a few months, was already known as a murderer and a cold-hearted monster. He was the killer of Jedi, the knight of Darkness.

Whether or not the Rebels would accept his change, would allow him to live should they ever discover Vader was no longer within the protection of the Empire, Obi-wan didn't know. What worried Kenobi even more was knowing that Anakin would not fight back, would allow himself to be led to the gallows as long as his family was safe.

Rebels, the Force said again, far more persistent this time.

Realizing he was not alone, Obi-wan opened his eyes and looked in the opposite direction of the cottage. Squinting in the bright sunlight, the Jedi stood and looked off into the distance.

And he saw it.

Coming just over the horizon was a speeder. Two familiar faces and two guards rode toward him, coming ever closer. Rebels, Kenobi realized, his breath catching in his throat.

Rebels. Coming here.

Anakin!

Turning, his robes fluttering behind him, Obi-wan made down the hill as though there was a mad bantha on his heels. He nearly tripped once, regained his balance and kept on running. He had to reach the cottage before the speeder.

_Anakin!_ He called out to his friend, _Anakin, quickly! __Into the trees.__ Rebels are coming!_

Skywalker appeared at the door just as Obi-wan made it to the path, breathing hard and glancing behind him. They hadn't passed over the hill yet. They still had time.

"Go." He told his friend, pushing the Sith toward the oaks. "They shouldn't be here long. Just stay out of sight."

"Obi-wan, wait – "

"What's going on?"

Padme, one of the twins in her arms, came outside looking worried. Sabé followed, the other babe in her arms. Both women were frightened at the sight of Obi-wan, his fear written clearly on his face.

"Rebels. They're headed this way. I thought perhaps we would have more time before they came, but they're here." Obi-wan shook his head. "It's General Ho and Senator Far'u from Ghilad. If they find out Anakin is here . . . " He didn't need to say anything more. It didn't take a lot of imagination to know what the rebels might do if they discovered Darth Vader here with them.

Padme quickly grabbed a hold of her husband's arm and tried to pull him in the direction of the grove. "Come on, Ani. Come on!"

But Skywalker didn't budge.

He stood, completely still, looking up at the hill, where the speeder would be coming from in only a minute or two. When he turned back to his wife, he smiled sadly.

"Go back inside, Padme. Take the children and don't come back out."

Eyes wide, the angel gasped. "What?!"

"Anakin," Obi-wan cautioned, "please, don't do anything rash."

But the Sith simply shrugged. "Don't worry, Obi-wan. Nothing's going to happen. Take Padme inside now. I don't want her outside when they get here." But his friend didn't move to take her in.

"No. Whatever happens, whatever comes of this, we're going to face it together." When Skywalker glanced over at his former master, Obi-wan set his jaw and gave a determined nod. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Anakin."

Padme nodded, against her husband's wishes, and placed the twins in her handmaiden's arms, so that she might take one of Darth's hands in her own. She stood by his side, ready to face whatever came.

But not everyone was so calm.

"Have you all gone mad?" Sabé wanted to know. "These are rebels. You're Darth Vader! If they see you, they will shoot you on sight, no questions asked." When Anakin only stared at her, she cried, "Do you want to die? Think of your children! Of your wife! Do you wish for them to face the pain of losing you again? Don't be a fool! Hide while there is still time!"

Hide? Anakin shook his head.

"No," he told her. "I cannot do that." When Sabé only shook her head, took a step back into the cottage, he sighed. "I was a fool and a coward not too long ago. That was why I lost my family the first time. I won't have that happen again. If I run and hide from this, from what I did, I will always be hiding. What kind of life is that? It can't make up for my crimes."

"Neither will dying!"

"Look." Obi-wan said quietly, silencing Sabé's protests. "There they are."

All four of them watched as the speeder flew over the hill and down into the little valley. They were indeed rebels, and as they came within sight, they too seemed to recognize the party that had come out to greet them. Almost before they had come to a halt, the guns were trained on Anakin.

Sabé gasped, then disappeared back into the house, the twins still in her arms.

The guards were the first to step out of the speeder, holding their guns steady. The general followed.

"General Kenobi!" Ho's voice boomed in the silence. "I am certain that you have an explanation for this. What is this . . . " Unable to find a suitably vile enough name for the man-machine, he sputtered, "What is he doing here?! Are you not aware you are in the company of Darth Vader?!"

He spat out the last two words as though they were poison on his tongue.

Before Obi-wan could speak, or even defend his friend, Anakin put a restraining hand on his shoulder and stepped forward.

"Jedi Kenobi is not involved in this." Vader's voice rumbled. "With your permission, General, I would like to return with you and your men to the Alliance and speak with the High Council."

"What," sputtered the old man, "What is the meaning of this?!"

"The meaning," Vader said calmly, "should be quite clear. I am surrendering to you and request a meeting with your superiors."

"Ani!" Padme cried softly, tugging at his arm, "No!"

Gently, he reached down and took her hand in his. Leaning in, he whispered softy so that only she and Obi-wan might hear. "I have to do this, Padme. I have done terrible things, and it is only right I do what I can to make up for them. The first is by helping the Alliance plan against Palpatine."

"But they will imprison you!" Obi-wan argued. "You might not even get to speak with the High Council! At least let me go with you."

"No, stay here. Protect the twins for me, Obi-wan."

"Enough of this!" Grumbled Ho, turning to his men. "Keep your blasters trained on Vader. If he makes a move, I want him dead. No Jedi tricks." He told the Sith.

Nodding, Anakin reached to remove the lightsaber that hung at his belt. The guards noticed the movement and raised their blasters, preparing to take aim. The general shouted, Obi-wan's hand reached for his own saber and Padme jumped in front of her husband. There was blood rushing in everyone's ears.

It seemed, at that moment, as though all three of them were dead.

"General," an alien female voice said, calmly cutting through the mayhem. It was the former senator, Far'u. "Please instruct your men to lower their weapons. That is Senator Amidala, a leader of the rebellion, they have within their sights."

Reacting to her command, the guards lowered their weapons and Obi-wan removed his hand from his saber.

Slowly, Anakin removed his lightsaber and handed it to Kenobi. The Jedi took it reluctantly. "Keep this for me."

He turned and walked toward the guards, who placed stun cuffs on the Sith's wrists and lead him to the speeder. Skywalker didn't fight them, merely got in and nodded to the general when he was ready. Ho, his eyes watching Vader carefully, took a seat at the controls and waited for the senator.

Far'u turned to Padme then and sighed.

"I am truly sorry about this. The Alliance grew worried when they had not heard from you in nearly a month since the birth. I came to see what had happened. I had not meant to give you a fright. Though, I do have to wonder. What is Lord Vader doing here?"

Padme, tears in her eyes, looked straight ahead at Anakin and could not turn away. He looked back at her. There was a chance they might never see one another again.

"He is my husband." She whispered.

The senator gasped, but Padme didn't hear. As the speeder drove away, she wrapped her arms around Obi-wan and watched as Anakin's shape disappeared over the hill. The Jedi held her close, both seeking and giving comfort.

"Don't worry, Padme." He told her softly, "We'll leave as soon as we can, and get there in time for the trial. You and Anakin will see each other again. I promise."

They stood there, arms around one another, till Sabé returned.

"Padme." She called. "The children are hungry. If we are to leave, best you feed them now."

Yes, Padme thought to herself, heading back inside and leaving Obi-wan to stand guard alone. First she would tend to her children, pushing all thoughts of her husband aside. Then, and only then, would she think of her Ani. And do what was necessary. Just as she had done before he had returned.

And then Padme had the sickening feeling that despite the past month, nothing much had changed at all.

* * *

End of Chapter One The Days Following

I think it was Lady Z who said this was 'the most realistic Vader redemption fic' she had ever read. I'm afraid that after this post it might not seem as realistic. Tell me what you think.

Caslia


	8. Rebel Standoff: Chapter 1

Rebirth of the Light

The Years Between

Chapter Two:

The Rebel Standoff

Two months after Rebirth of the Light. . .

* * *

"I thought you hated flying."

"I do." Obi-wan replied; hitting the thrusters so hard Padme thought the little speeder might explode. She clung to the twins in her arms and braced against the wind. "Can't this thing go any faster?!" The Jedi complained.

It had taken nearly three hours after the rebels had left with Anakin to get everything together so they could leave. As Padme and Sabé had prepared the twins, Obi-wan had called ahead to the spaceport to receive early flighty permission. That way, as soon as they were aboard, they could take off.

Padme wasn't so sure they weren't simply going to take off now and rise up out of the atmosphere. The ground passed beneath them as one long, green sea, and Sabé clung to the side for dear life.

"Obi-wan, please be careful," the handmaiden called. "You're flying as recklessly fast as Anakin!"

"Good." The Jedi called over the sound of the speeder, the wind stealing his voice and throwing it back in the women's faces. "The faster, the better."

Faster! Faster!! They had to reach Anakin in time. If they could only gain more ground, maybe even beat the rebels to the spaceport, Obi-wan would make them stop and listen to reason. They couldn't take Anakin away. Not now, not after everything that had happened. Loosing him now would be . . .

Obi-wan didn't even want to think about it.

What a fool Skywalker was! Going willingly with them. Didn't he know what would happen? Hadn't he realized he would be forced to face trial?

Yes, yes of course he did, Kenobi thought, trying to calm himself. He needed to focus. Of course Anakin knew what was going to happen. He expected to pay for his crimes, was willing to do anything to try and right his wrongs. But Obi-wan wasn't as willing as his friend. Anakin's death would accomplish nothing, but the Rebels might not see it that way.

"At last." Padme breathed a sigh of relief behind him. "There's the spaceport!"

But there was no speeder coming from there direction and when a monitor of the hangers was asked, they learned the rebel ship had departed some hours ago.

"Everyone into the ship." Obi-wan snapped, parking the speeder in the storage compartment of the hanger. The women hopped out and ran to the ramp as Kenobi paid the man and followed.

The Star Rider, the ship an 18-year-old Anakin Skywalker had rebuilt after it crashed, was Obi-wan's pride and joy. True, it had been the bane of his existence in earlier years, fearing the thing might fall apart on him at any moment during missions. But later, after Anakin's fall from grace, it had been full 

of memories and Kenobi cherished the bucket of bolts, knowing it had been the work of his skilled padawan's hands that had put the Star Rider together.

"I hope you're still in good condition." He muttered, quickly striding down the hallway and into the cockpit.

Padme was there, her arms empty as the twins were with Sabé. She was reaching for the controls.

"Padme, what do you think you're doing?" The Jedi placed a hand on her shoulder and turned her around. Her face, when looking at him, was scared but determined. An expression he was all too used to seeing on the young queen's face.

"I'm going to fly." Padme insisted when he started shaking his head. "I am, Obi-wan, don't tell me no. They took Anakin from me. They took him and I only just got him back." The tears she had been holding back, trying to be strong, slipped out from underneath her lashes. She dashed them away with an angry hand.

The Jedi nodded, pulled her into a hug so that she could hide her face within his robes. Sighing, Padme leaned into him.

"We'll get him back, Padme. I promise you, we will."

"I know." She replied, "But I can't just sit and do nothing. I need to do something! You understand! Please, let me fly."

Hesitating, knowing she was a trained pilot but also knowing how her husband would feel about this, Obi-wan nodded his agreement and stepped back. Padme gave him a grateful look and turned back to the controls. Obi- wan moved to belt himself into the co-pilot's seat.

"Besides," she laughed, belting in and checking the system, "you don't even like flying, remember?"

As the ship prepared for slight and the thrusters roared beneath them, Obi- wan sighed and leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes. He frowned slightly to himself. No, he didn't like flying. But if that was what it took to get him to Anakin, he'd fly from one end of the galaxy to the other.

If he ever got the chance, he would have to tell his friend that.

* * *

It took nearly two weeks to reach the rebel fleet.

Padme thought she was going to go insane. What if something happened to Anakin? What if she never got to see him again? Surely he wouldn't do anything rash! And the Council, of course they would see he wasn't the man he had once been, wouldn't they? Of course! This was all pointless, this worrying. It upset her, and the twins, and even Obi-wan, her emotional rock in the sea of powerful and damning emotions.

As the first week passed, she found herself wondering aimlessly around the ship, looking for something to do, some way to keep herself busy and her mind off their situation.

Wandering farther and farther from the lounge and her twins, who had become fussy from the long trip, Padme returned constantly to the cockpit to check their progress. In the end, she turned to Obi-wan for help and joined him in long hours of practicing mediating. It did not have the same effect on her as it did for Jedi, but it calmed her mind and gave her time to think, without hindering emotions, about the future.

"Obi-wan. . ." she ventured one day. "Do you think maybe it's possible other Jedi children escaped? That there might be others out there? I mean, if there were, you could begin a new order."

"Like you and the rebellion, when the war ends, intend to start a new government? Perhaps, but it would take time, great planning." Kenobi nodded as he sat with her in the little lounge at the table, eating dinner. He thoughtfully poked at a string of pasta. "Much, I believe would have to change."

"Change?"

"Anakin. . .In a lot of ways maybe. . .maybe the destruction of the order was necessary. Not a good thing, but, so much had become. . .soiled. We became too concerned with the republic, and less so with the people. Anakin was right about that. I'm just sorry so many had to die for the changes to come around."

Padme nodded, considering his words. Much also had needed to change in the Republic. Perhaps the Empire was a way of making people grateful for the freedoms they had had, rather than abusing them. Now there would be honorable causes, the need for justice and liberty, things the Empire oppressed.

But, she admitted to herself, if the Rebel Council refused Anakin his life, his freedom, where they all that better than the Empire? Or the Old Republic, for that matter?

Obi-wan was right; there was much to think on.

Well, she had plenty of time to meditate on it.

* * *

Anakin had just as much time to mediate on things as did his wife.

There were fewer distractions now that he was no longer with his family. He slept, mediated and took the vitamins he had stored in his belt. Other than that, there were only the hourly checks by the guards, opening the door of the hold in the back of the general's ship and complaining there should be bonds around the Sith's wrists.

Not like he would have tried to escape. Or even harmed the guards. But he understood they had to be cautious. They were afraid of him. Terrified. He could feel it.

And he hated himself for it.

The trip might have been spent in further quiet contemplation, considering what he would say to the Council, if the not for the visit of the Senator.

Far'u, a blue furred humanoid for Gilhad, her face narrow with long, pointed features, walked with distinguished but also weary grace into his cabin. He could feel her distrust, but also her curiosity. It was her weakness. A month ago, he would have bent that to his will, crushed her spirit and used her natural inquisitiveness to his advantage.

Just as Palpatine used my ambition and my feelings of being less than worthy to control me, Anakin thought to himself.

"What do you intend to do?" she asked him after he had risen and greeted her. "When you meet with the High Council?"

"Speak with them. Offer them what I can. I know many things, about the Empire. Secrets. As you know, I was once the Emperor's. . ." Here, he felt his soul shudder in horror. "His servant. His trusted 'friend'. I know a lot that could help the Alliance."

"And why," she asked, stepping closer, her long ears, like a cat's, twitching, as if listening for the sincerity in his mechanical voice, "would you offer that, Lord Vader?"

"Please, Senator. My name is Anakin. Anakin Skywalker."

If she recognized his name or had any knowledge of his past, she did not show it. "Very well, Lord Skywalker. Why?"

"Because," he sighed, "I was wrong. I do not really expect you, or even the Council, to believe me. But it is the truth. I made many wrong decisions and done many... unspeakable things while in the Emperor's service. Things that were done out of anger, out of corrupted emotions. I thought I was seeking justice, vengeance, when all I was doing was killing innocents and pushing away the only people who loved me enough to try and save me. The Empire and its master made a monster out of me. And then hurt thousands. I would undo my crimes, and those of the Emperor's. I am willing to submit to the will of your Council, to the justice and hopefully the wisdom of the Alliance, as to see the end of this tyranny."

For the longest moment, she stared at him. Anakin didn't move, nor did he speak again; merely remained silent and let the former senator draw her own conclusions.

At last, she blinked, as if coming awake. Apparently, that had not been what she had been expecting. Then she shrugged.

"How do I know you aren't lying? You are a Sith."

"Yes," Skywalker nodded, watching and trying to read her feline eyes. "I am a Sith. That, too, was a mistake. A Jedi turns to the Darkside by giving into anger, hate or fear. And I was afraid. Dreadfully afraid of loosing those I loved. And that was my greatest mistake. Only when even I had thought myself lost, was my family returned to me. I will not loose them now."

Eyebrows raised, Far'u listened, then nodded. Turning on the toes of her boots, she swayed to the door. Only for a moment did she glance back at him.

"For a man so well condemned by his coldness, you certainly have a lot of passion, Lord Skywalker." She smiled, then palmed the door and left.

The senator did not return again to his cell, and he was somewhat grateful for it. There was something she had been hiding from him, willing it for her mind. It worried him, but as he felt no threat, Anakin shoved it from his thoughts as well.

He needed no other distractions.

* * *

Chapter Two, The Rebel Standoff to be continued...

Yes, I am aware this post was exceedingly short. Remember we discussed the need to downsize? Just look at it this way. Now I can get maybe two posts a day written.

Okay, see? That made everyone smile. ;)

Caslia


	9. Rebel Standoff: Chapter 2

Ug. This chapter may include a pitiful try at politics. I have no real idea how the inner rebel politics work, whose side who is on, who the original leaders were besides Padme, and anything else that might be involved. I know its important and all that, but we're in too much of a hurry to worry about any of this.

I mean, who really wants to read eight pages worth of a trial with a lot of petty arguing and pointless logrolling? Hmmm . . . I thought not.

* * *

Continuation of Chapter Two:

The Rebel Standoff

Two months after Rebirth of the Light. . .

* * *

The nightmares came more often now.

Without Padme beside him, Anakin's nights were half spent trapped in dark visions. The rest of his long rest periods were used for meditating. There, the light surrounded him and he found serenity.

More and more he felt this was the right course of action. Anakin could only hope the Force wasn't leading him astray, or that his grief was blinding him to the dangerous situation he might soon be facing.

When the ship at last exited hyperspace, presumably where the Rebel fleet was docked, it was sometime before anyone came for him. He could feel people coming and going on the ship by little transports. Far'u's presence faded and then returned after many hours.

Skywalker used the time he was given to calm his fears and silence all the 'what ifs'.

Anakin awakened from his mediations to the sound of marching feet outside his cell door. Two pair was the guards; he had come to recognize them in his weeks aboard the ship. The third pair he had heard only once. The senator has returned.

The door slid open and Far'u stepped inside.

"Lord Skywalker."

"Senator Far'u." he greeted her respectfully, standing. Then he offered both his hands, palms up, to her. When the Gilhadian only stared at him, he motioned to the guards standing behind her, blasters ready. "Aren't you going to secure me, Senator? I'm sure it would make you feel far safer. And others as well."

It was obvious the woman considered it, but she shook her head.

"Thus far you have proved yourself trustworthy, Dark Lord. You've had every opportunity to escape, as well as to cause harm. You've done neither. If you will continue to act in this manner, we will continue to treat you as something of a guest, rather than a prisoner."

Grateful, though not all that surprised, Vader agreed and followed behind her when she left the cell. The guards, one in front and one behind, didn't have the same faith as their leader. Their fingers itched on the triggers.

General Ho met them at the ramp. He scowled at Vader and spoke gruffly, though quietly to Far'u about his not being cuffed, but otherwise said nothing to the Sith.

They waited as their ship ignited the engines and headed for the Dreadnaught waiting for them.

On their wing, pilots watched them with suspicion in their eyes and their hands ready on the stick.

The rebel ship completed the landing smoothly into the carrier, the landing gear was secured. The fighters pealed off, Ho spoke into his comm. and the ramp lowered.

Anakin, safely sandwiched between the guards, looked out upon the rebel hanger and their twenty-five thousand fighters, all pre-Empire. It was, sadly, an unimpressive sight. The carrier was obviously old and battered, the fighters had seen better days and the mechanical equipment in use was probably ten years outdated.

The Sith made a mental note to himself that after he had made his offer to the Rebel Council, he would also add the location and security code to his own, large credit account for their use.

Running on hopes and dreams wasn't going to help them win a galactic civil war.

As they descended the ramp, a number of mechanics looked their way. A few appeared quite startled to see Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, on board their ship, surrounded by only two guards. Some people even ran off to call for other guards.

Others only glared in his direction and turned back to their work. A handful of pilots stood off to the side, helmets under their arms, and watched him pass. They seemed intrigued, almost unafraid. The Rebellion's heroes, no doubt.

Anakin even recognized some who were wanted for desertion from the Empire.

He wondered if Palpatine had spies among them.

By the time they left the hanger and headed down the corridors, Vader had an escort of over thirty guards. It troubled him to see that many of them were old men with metal hate in their eyes, or worse, young boys and girls, whose eye's shown with pride as they marched Darth Vader to his meeting with the High Council.

To think he had once been one of them, marching in the ranks of youth and pride. A silent prayer was said that none of these kids had his fate ahead of them.

Quickly, he shut out all the emotions and thoughts being flung his direction and concentrated on what he had decided to say to the Rebel leaders.

But his morale quickly began to drop. This was how the rebels felt about him. All these words they mentally spat at him. They despised him; afraid and disgusted by his very presence. Could he make any of them listen? Would they be able to see through their hate and realize the man before them was not the monster he had been?

The little band stopped before a set of doors; loud voices spouting their opinions could be heard behind them. The doors to the Council room. Senator Far'u motioned to Ho, who, sour faced, palmed the door and stepped forward as they slid open.

Anakin took a deep breath and prayed to the Force he hadn't just made another mistake.

* * *

"Twenty minutes before we exit hyperspace."

Obi-wan leaned back in the co-pilot's chair and sighed. Beside him, Padme also looked relieved. After a whole week in hyperspace they were finally nearing the Rebel fleet.

If only they were in time!

"You'd best go get the twins ready." The Jedi said, running a hand through his graying hair. "It won't be hard to get permission to land, but after that we may have to fight our way down to the Council room."

Padme turned a determined, yet frightened face to her friend. "Obi-wan. . .I'm scared."

Sighing, Kenobi nodded. "I know. Me too. But we can't let that stop us, Padme. Now put on a bright face and go back there to help Sabé with Luke and Leia. We'll be entering real space soon." Understanding, the former queen rose and headed into the back.

When they exited hyperspace, the fleet appeared before Obi-wan, sorry excuse that it was, and he contacted flight command, requesting permission to land in the carrier. Permission granted, he glided through the gravity shield and descended onto the platform. The landing gear rocked beneath him and the Star Rider was safely back home.

"There." He said to himself. "That wasn't so hard." The feeling that he was already too late grew stronger and Obi-wan sighed, wary of fighting his fears. "You'd better not have gotten yourself into more trouble then you can handle, Skywalker." He muttered.

Unbelting his crash webbing, Obi-wan jumped from his seat and ran to the ramp exit. There, he found Padme, her handmaiden and the twins all waiting. Everyone one, even the children, had anxious faces.

"Don't worry." The Jedi assured them, feeling the hollowness of his words, "Everything is going to be okay."

Nodding, the two women took after him down the ramp towards the corridors. Running, they made for the Council room. . .

* * *

Twelve beings sat around a semicircle table, in an otherwise barren room. Four were humans. The others were a Wookie, three humanoids and four aliens. A handful of aides lurked in the corners.

It was nowhere near as intimidating as the High Council room back in the Imperial Palace. Nor as commanding or as powerful as the tower in which the Jedi High Council had once met; though it did contain the same simplicity of that deceased committee of masters.

Still, Vader thought if he looked hard enough, he might see his Fate in the eyes of those beings around that table.

His little band of guards left him at the door. General Ho took up his place beside the door, as though on guard himself. Vader was left with Far'u and a room full of eyes staring, with accusations, at him.

Well, now or never.

Stepping farther into the room, hearing the door slide shut behind him, the Sith bowed to the Council and cleared his throat.

"Members of the Council."

Apparently, they hadn't expected him to be cordial. Or rather, perhaps they were all expecting to suddenly die at his hands. Or thousands of stormtroopers come pouring out from behind his cloak and out of his pockets. Whatever they were expecting, Darth decided, he definitely wasn't it.

One of the humans, a young, redheaded woman he recognized as Mon Mothma, moved to speak. She had been a senator for only a year before the Emperor disbanded the Senate. Now, she gestured to him.

"Lord Darth Vader. We understand that. . .you wish to speak with us?"

Her hesitation and obvious confusion was understandable. In any other situation, Vader himself would have to wonder just what it was he was doing here.

Padme's beloved face and Obi-wan's gentle encouragement helped him find his words.

"Yes, Senator, I did make such a request." His hands felt the need to fidget and he reprimanded himself. He hadn't been so nervous like this before a council in many years. "I...I am here to make an offer to this council. To the Rebellion, actually."

The Council members whispered amongst themselves, surprised and worried. An offer? From Darth Vader?!

"Lord Vader," one of the humanoids spoke. "You must understand how. . .well, quite frankly, how strange this seems to us. Are you not the Emperor' man? Why would you be willing to betray Palpatine, after serving him so well after so long?"

A number of others nodded at his words.

Vader did as well, to the surprise of many. "You're quite right, council member. I did serve the Emperor. Willingly. . .loyally. For. . .much longer than it is thought. But I have been given reason to reconsider my choices. Recently, I have seen the tyranny of the Empire, and realized the extent of my mistakes." Warming up to his words, Anakin drew a breath and continued. "I doubt you would believe me – "

"No," an alien, a Devaronian, rose from his place and pointed an accusing finger at the Sith, his voice raised. "We don't. Nor should we trust you! What game is it you play with us, Sith?! You are a servant of the Emperor, a pawn of the Empire, despite all your strengths and powers. Why shouldn't we just kill you, Vader?!"

Anakin sucked in a deep breath, forced himself to let it out slowly, despite his protesting lungs. He had known some would feel this way, but it still hit hard.

"Please," his voice calm, "my name is no longer Darth Vader. I would appreciate it if you did not refer to me as such."

"We know." The gentle, but firm voice of Mothma helped ease the tension and turned all eyes her direction. "We have spoken with Senator Far'u. We understand that you were once the Jedi Knight, Anakin Skywalker. Is this true, my lord?"

The room was silent in anticipation.

When Anakin nodded, a collective gasp went up around the room.

Sensing their distress, as well as their disgust, the former Jedi bowed his head in shame. Mon Mothma considered his confession, then leaned back in her chair and sighed. "It would seem then, my lord, that perhaps not all things here are as they seem. Far'u has told us about your words to her during your journey here. Am I to assume they were honest and heartfelt?"

"It was lies that lead to my crimes and misplaced loyalty, Senator." Skywalker looked up, met her eyes, and willed Mothma to hear his words, to believe him. "I have left such deceit behind me."

"Very well, Lord Vader. . .Jedi Skywalker. . ."

"Just Skywalker. I am not worthy of either title."

Another surprised murmur ran through the little crowd assembled, but some nodded and approved of his words. That was at least something.

Mon apparently also approved. "Very well, Skywalker. Let us assume for the moment that you are sincere in your redemption. You said you came with an offer? And, if we understand your words to Far'u, you would disclose a number of the Empire's military secrets."

"More than that. I have extensive knowledge on all the Empire's doings. I can get your people into the Palace, or plans of our new Super Star Destroyers. I would also like to offer you and the Alliance the codes to my personal account. Your fleet and personnel are obviously in need of funding. I can offer you that as well. All I ask in return is to be allowed to live out my life in peace from now on."

He had more to say, but the Wookie, a great being who was so old, all but the fur that served as eyebrows had turned a snow white. He growled fiercely and his droid turned to the Sith, speaking in a prissy voice that made Anakin desperately lonely of C3-PO's company.

"My lor...er, Skywalker. Master Gerakkinaru wishes me to remind you that you have committed unspeakable crimes against the beings of this galaxy. If you wish, for convenience, I could list them for you-"

But the droid was interrupted. "Treason against the Republic, murder of the Jedi Order," Anakin began to list them off, not missing a beat. "Genocide where many species are concerned. I'm sure you could name many, many more. But the worst are those you don't know about. I betrayed the love of my mother and ideals of the man who was like a father to me. I tried to kill my best friend. And then I became so corrupted by the Darkness I. . .I beat my wife." Feeling himself loosing his composition, Anakin clamped his mouth shut and fought to keep his from hands shaking.

There was silence, and the Sith looked up to meet every one of those pair of eyes. Some of them looked absolutely disgusted. There were one or two that might have been sympathetic, but he didn't take the time to notice.

"I know what my crimes were," he spoke softly now, the self-hatred pushed down deep inside, "I see them every night when I shut my eyes, hearing the screaming voices. I remember them every time I look at my wife and realize just how close I came. . ."

._ . .he threw the lightsaber to the side, reached for her dress. Padme cried, tried to back away but Anakin had his boot down on her waist in an instant. "Don't you love me, my angel!? Show me you do! Love me, Padme! Love me!!" He ripped at the fabric, trying to get it off as she struggled beneath him. . ._

". . .how close I came to loosing her." He swallowed, fighting the memory. Not here. Not now!

"I'm not looking for forgiveness," he finally managed when the sudden lump in his throat was gone. "No, not forgiveness. I know I will never be worthy of it. But that's not going to stop me from trying to undo some of my wrongs." Drawing a deep breath, he gave up all pretense. "In the end, I am really here to ask for your help. If you can grant me the chance, I'll do what I can to aid in the Empire's downfall."

There was another murmur of voices as the members spoke amongst themselves when Vader fell silent, casting glances at him from time to time.

He waited, quietly; with all the patience his redemption had lent him. The Sith didn't dare use the Force to read the council member's minds and learn his fate. He was too frightened.

At last, all the members had reached an agreement and nominated Mon Mothma as their speaker. She cast one last glance at her peers, then turned to him, her face stern and forbidding. "Lord Vader, Anakin Skywalker, whoever you may choose to be. We cannot overlook the crimes you have committed against the people of this galaxy, nor the fact you may still very well be the Emperor's servant and thus loyal to the Darkside." Vader's body was rigid in his anticipation of her next words. The tension must have been palpable, filling the room. The guards fingered their blasters.

"However," Mothma continued. "We are not the Empire. The Alliance believes in second chances, as well as the belief that people can change and redeem themselves. Even Siths. So," she motioned to Darth, "we are willing to accept your offer, for information as well as for funds, so long as we can ensure you are sincere in your change of loyalties."

Vader sighed deeply, feeling his greater fears vanish. So, he had not overestimated the compassion, or the need of the Rebel Alliance.

"Of course. Thank you." Vader bowed again to the Council, hoping his relief was not obvious.

"You understand there will be restrictions and requirements of you, Skywalker? No use of the Force, save for under direct supervision, as well as restricted movement and knowledge of the rebellion."

"I would expect nothing less, Senator Mothma."

Mon nodded in return and smiled to herself. She, herself, was not yet sure if Vader was sincere, and she knew many of the others weren't as well. But, what he was offering was too good to pass up. Besides, even if she didn't trust the Sith, Mon was at least sincere about second chances. Maybe, with time, Skywalker would prove himself.

"If I might, Council members," a new voice spoke up from the crowd.

All eyes turned as the aides moved aside to allow three figures to enter the center of the room beside Vader.

"Obi-wan!"

Anakin shook his head; unable to believe his old master was here. Beside Kenobi, Padme stood smiling, the twins held close in her hands. Sabé protectively positioned herself next to her queen, a hand ever ready on her blaster.

"Obi-wan," Skywalker whispered to his friend, "what are you doing here?!"

The Jedi, his eyes both relieved and tired, turned to his friend and smiled. "Come on, Anakin. I couldn't let you go off on your own. Who knew what you might get into? Last time I turned my back, you went and got yourself married."

Padme, all smiles, elbowed Obi-wan in back. "Don't think I didn't hear that."

Ignoring the comment, the Jedi Master turned back to the assembled rebels and the Council, many of whom the members seemed both stricken and confused. Bail Organa, a man Obi-wan remembered as being compassionate and reasonable, was the first to regain his composure.

"Padme?" the Alderaalian sputtered. "Padme, what are you doing here? I thought you had retreated into hiding from Palpatine."

Anakin's wife shifting the children in her arms and smiled warmly at her friend. She had dated Bail temporarily in the Senate for publicity's sake. "Bail. It's good to see you again. As to what I am doing here. . .well. I'm here to support my husband." She turned then, so much love in her eyes, to Anakin. "I wanted him to know how proud I was of him, and how, no matter what, I'm going to stay by his side."

"Your husband!" a twi'lik council member choked out. "You, Queen Amidala, are married to Darth Vader!?"

"No." Padme replied, not even turning to the council, only handing Anakin his son so she might have a free hand to take his other. "I'm married to Anakin Skywalker."

There was another gasp going up around the room, but Skywalker was oblivious to it. Anakin thought his heart was going to explode. He was only aware of Padme, her shining eyes looking up into his despite the mask; and the two little children in their arms.

She had come after him.

Padme wasn't a Jedi, but somehow, she read his mind. Her smile turned sad and she squeezed his hand. "I should have the first time, Ani. I should have come after you. That was imy/i mistake. And now I'm never going to let you go."

"That's just fine with me, angel." He replied softly.

Obi-wan smiled, seeing the two of them together, wondering; if the Jedi Council had been able to see the love between them, the power they were in the Force, would they have allowed them to stay together. Probably not. All the more reason for him to fight now to keep Anakin and Padme together. Turning to the Council, he spoke.

"As I was saying. If I might, I would offer to take Anakin into my custody. As a Jedi Master, I can assure you he will be protected, as well as well supervised, while in my custody."

The members exchanged more glances.

"General Kenobi," Mothma replied, "correct me if I'm wrong but. . .was not Anakin Skywalker, and thus Darth Vader, your apprentice?"

Anakin winced at that, remembering his betrayal, but Obi-wan didn't even blink. He was that confident Jedi again, intent on his mission. "Yes, Senator. That is correct. Due to this, or rather, despite it, Anakin and I have a very strong bond, and even stronger trust. You don't need to fear his return to the Darkside." Turning back to his friend, Kenobi smiled and Anakin felt his courage return. "He is not the man I used to know him to be."

Though the members discussed this among themselves for long moments, it was obvious they were impressed by the Jedi-General's words.

While the rebel's attentions were elsewhere, Obi-wan moved back to the little family. "That was quite an impressive speech you gave, Anakin." He smiled and patted his friend on the back. "I think you might just have survived this even without our intervention."

"Thanks for your vote of confidence, Master." Skywalker joked.

Obi-wan's smile became mocking and his grip tightened on Anakin's shoulder. "However, Anakin, if you ever frighten me that bad again, I can promise you I will think of something perfectly wretched to do to you in return."

Laughing, Anakin nodded his agreement, all to aware of Obi-wan's sinister capabilities for revenge.

"And," he added as an afterthought, "I'm not your master. Better to think of me as your parole officer."

"I think 'parole officer' isn't the correct description for your new position, General Kenobi." Organa interrupted, returning the room's attention to the Council. "Instead, until decided otherwise by this council, you will the Guardian of Anakin Skywalker. It will be your responsibility to see to the use of his Force abilities, as well as to restriction knowledge of the rebellion."

Kenobi growled deep in his throat and rolled his eyes.

"Not again!"

When Padme glanced curiously at her husband, Anakin chuckled and explained, "Very similar to the responsibilities placed upon him by the Jedi Council after Master Qui-gon's death."

Mon Mothma cleared her throat. "Well, I must admit this was not at all what I was expecting to come of this meeting, but it is satisfactory. You're dismissed. Except for you, Skywalker. If you would stay behind a moment, we can discuss a time to begin your interviews to retrieve the offered information."

"Of course, Senator." Darth turned to his wife, longed to kiss her, and sighed. "I'll meet you outside."

Padme nodded, her handmaiden took Luke from Anakin's arms and they headed for the doors. Obi-wan turned to follow, but Anakin caught his arm and Kenobi stopped.

"Thank you." He said, sending through the Force his gratitude, since his old master couldn't see it in his eyes.

Obi-wan smiled in return and nodded. "You know I would fly from one end of this galaxy to the next, Anakin. . ."

"Yeah," Skywalker replied, that damned lump back in his throat. "I know." When the Jedi followed the women from the room, Anakin turned away and cursed himself silently. He did know. If only he had realized he knew it two years ago. . .

* * *

Chapter Two The Rebel Standoff To Be Continued

Caslia


	10. Rebel Standoff: Chapter 3

I wrote this on the fourth of July, that wacky American holiday. I dyed part of my hair blue for the occasion, watched three hours of MASH (we can't get it in Taiwan, so I gorge during the summer) and did all I could to escape from having to help prepare dinner. Fireworks followed later that evening. Best of all, I'd just gotten lots of replies from Part 5 of Chapter one (the storm scene with Anakin and Leia). So despite how serious this post should probably have been, it ended up being...well, rather lighthearted. Blame Hawk-eye for that. I kept hearing canned laughter in my head for hours.

Can anyone else hear Vader saying 'banana cream pie?' James Earl Jones, sure. But Vader?

You know how I said I can never write Padme. Like, really get her character down? When I finished with this post, I sorta realized that Sabé, or at least the Sabé I write probably acts a lot like Padme should. Especially when dealing with men. Or, in this case, one man. Let me know what you think.

* * *

Continuation of Chapter Two:

The Rebel Standoff

Two months after Rebirth of the Light...

* * *

When the news of the Council's decision reached her, it was like a knife in her heart, cutting it into little pieces before forcing it out. The knowledge of this bitter betrayal hurt almost as much as...as much her family's death. But this didn't leave her with the same hollowness inside. Oh, no. There was nothing that felt quite like this.

Knowing that the time had at last come to avenge the death of loved ones.

Jan Sollik stood among the many rebels gathered outside the Council Room to be present during the trial of Lord Darth Vader. She blended easily with everyone else. Human, middle height, with short-cut brown hair, dressed for flight. She had been preparing to go on a recon mission with her squadron when the word had come through that Darth Vader had not been imprisoned. Rather, he was being pardoned, placed under Jedi supervision and allowed to go free!!

She sneered at the very thought of it. Free, while her husband and their beautiful little daughter lay buried in the cold earth of some forgotten world.

What, she wondered, had the Sith done to convince the Council to give him his life? Had he used some mind trick on them? Was Vader powerful enough to do that? Jan didn't for a minute believe he had actually offered them Imperial secrets, and if he had, they were all bogus and outdated.

They were all blind, Sollik decided. Or idiots.

That thought soured in her mind. She had come to the Rebellion after the death of her family, colonists on a wayward agricultural planet of the Empire. They had done well for a few years, planting enough to survive. Jan and Eric had watched with pride as both their small city and young daughter grew in the gentle light of Uran, their new home.

But then, she remembered sadly, the Empire had come. They had been looking for a rebel. Just one. But that was enough of a reason for them to destroy the city and burn all the crops, should the rebel be hiding in the fields.

And then, they burned the homes. Her home.

With Eric and her little Micha within, alive.

As the troopers dragged her and all the women away, as they screamed and fought, reached for those who cried amongst the flames!

Vader.

Seeing the doors open to the Council room and his own family emerge, a young, petite woman with two small children in her arms, forced Jan to turn and fight her way through the crowd. She couldn't stand here and see Vader happy. Knowing he had his life, his wife and his children.

It wasn't fair. Not after what the Empire had done to her.

Some friends passed her in the hallway, but she didn't look at them. There were tears in her eyes. Instead she focused on her boots, making them take her from the corridors to the hanger, where she would be safe. Where there would be something for her to think on besides that day and this one.

Micha. She had been so young. Had seen only three Harvests. Her hair had been long and brown, like her mother's when she was younger. She would run off after her father when Eric went to work in the fields.

Her little cherubic face, laughing as the wind blew through her hair and the sun shined down.

The way she would pout when it rained, or run and hid in Jan's arms when it stormed. How all three of them would dance together at the Harvest festivals, the wooden toys Eric carved for her. Her baby clothes, nothing but black ashes now, like Micha herself.

Jan hadn't realized she'd stopped walking, till she laid her forehead on the ice-cold hull of her fighter.

She was safe, here in the hanger, away from Vader and everything he had done. Here, she could hop into her ship, hit full throttle and leave all the memories behind, at least for a little while.

There, with her head empty, she could think clearly and plan.

Micha's little voice, crying out to her as the stormtroopers dragged her through the rich, brown dirt, so good for planting. So useless now. Her daughter's face browning in the heat of the flames.

The soft, innocent faces of Vader's children, laying in their mother's arms.

Sith-spawn? Or children, cursed by fate?

As her own daughter had been. Her little Micha. Too young to know how to sew, despite how hard she tried. How she would prick her finger, but never cry. She'd stick it in her mouth, sucking on the wound as she glared in frustration at her messy needle work.

Jan knew then what she had to do.

* * *

They slept that night in secure quarters offered them by Council.

It was requested that the woman share on cabin with the children, while the Jedi and Sith take the other. When Padme started to protest, intending to point out that she and Anakin were a married couple, Sabé caught the queen's eye and shook her head.

"No trouble."

It became Padme's silent motto, being constantly repeated in her mind, as she was forced to tell her husband goodnight and walk down the hall to her room.

Anakin watched her till she entered her room and locked it from the inside. Obi-wan noticed how worried his friend was and nodded. "You're worried about her."

"Another of your famous understatements, Obi-wan."

The Jedi shrugged. "You don't need to be, you know. She'd safe here. These people respect her, trust her. She was one of their first leaders. Focus. The interviews should be your main concern."

Rolling his eyes, Anakin turned and walked into the tiny cabin he would share with Kenobi for the nights they were with the rebels. There were two small beds across from one another, a fresher that's door wouldn't close all the way, and a mini fridge that acted as their kitchenette.

He couldn't help feeling it was just like old times and a thousand Jedi missions.

"Well," glancing around, Obi-wan sighed. "We might as well get some sleep. Unless you want to play cards or something." When Anakin only gave him a look of exasperation and moved toward his bunk, the Jedi shrugged. "You're only backing out because you know I'd win anyway."

Anakin went to sleep smiling. It didn't last.

* * *

_Flames._

_He dreamed of fire, the red tongues licking up a child's body. Screaming. He tried to reach out to her, to pull her from the torment that was eating her alive, blackening her golden skin; her red hair and beautiful smile melting before his eyes. But no matter how he reached, something held him back._

_He struggled, fought it, but it refused to let go._

_At first, it was white hands grabbing at him. Then it was inside, a darkness, consuming everything, controlling him. He was a slave to it. The Darkness. He had sold his soul to it, bowed to it, as the child burned in the flames._

_But it was no longer red as blood, the flames as those of fire. It became lightening, blue and white. And what it did not consume, it used to fuel its fury further._

_"Father!"_

_The face in the flames...no longer the little girl's. A voice called out to him, familiar and yet he had never heard it before. His own eyes, pleading._

_"Father, please!" then the young man, who looked so much like Anakin, screamed and fell back, withering in the lightening. A voice, just on the edge of his hearing, laughed sinisterly and called out, jeering at the man's pain._

_Luke._

_Anakin didn't know how he knew it. But he did. It was like seeing through the fog, through a black cloud that had blinded him for years. This man, lying here, with the lightening shooting into him and death looming ever nearer, was his son._

_His son. His boy. Grown._

_Dying._

_Luke! Could he save him? The Darkness inside squeezed his soul harder, pulling him away. He could feel himself fighting, feeling Vader longing to reach out and save his son, but knowing...knowing what the consequences would be._

_But he didn't care. This was his son. His son!! For the first time in the dream, with the Darkness filling him and only a small spark of light shining through, that title was more than that._

_Son meant Luke. And Luke was dying._

_He couldn't reach him, couldn't save him. Luke...Luke! Oh, Force, please! Give me strength! Let me save him! He's my son!! But the Darkness wrapped tighter around his soul. His son's face, surrounded in the light, cried out once more. There was forgiveness in his eyes and Vader's heart broke._

_And seeing his father was not coming to his rescue, understanding Vader had chosen the Darkness once and for all, Luke shut his eyes and was still._

_Weeping, Anakin knelt beside the body of his son._

_Why? Why couldn't he save his son?_

_The little redheaded girl, the fires licking her face, laid beside Luke on the cold steel ground. She looked up at him with accusing eyes, knowing him for the monster that he was._

_"It's because of you." she told him, her voice the voice of a woman's, one that had wept for so long she was numb inside. "You're the reason. You are the reason the children are dead."_

_"I couldn't...I couldn't stop it." He heard himself cry, reaching for her._

_But she pulled away and shut her eyes. "You'll pay. You'll suffer as we suffered."_

* * *

And he woke, weeping and trembling from the nightmare. There were arms around him, someone talking and trying to calm him, with words that didn't make any sense to his ears.

Obi-wan shook his friend again, demanded Anakin stop crying, to wake up.

"Anakin. Anakin, stop it! Stop it right now!" When Skywalker fought his hands away, Kenobi grabbed him and gave him a good shake. "Damn it, Anakin! Stop! You're scaring me!"

He should go for Padme. He shouldn't have agreed to separate quarters for the two. He should have listened to Sabé when she said that despite everything, the two of them needed to be together.

It reminded him of when he had a padawan. An apprentice, with nightmares about the death of his beloved mother and that of his master. And Obi-wan, the stern Jedi Master, had been unable to hold him, to calm him. He hadn't been able to find it within himself to show compassion.

"Anakin." The Sith had finally stopped shaking, just sat and stared down at his hands. Sighing, Obi-wan sat down beside him. "Anakin, please. I...I don't know what to do." His friend looked up at him, so full of fear and grief. What had he once told his padawan? They were just dreams? That they would pass.

What little he had know.

"Tell me," he said at last, and Obi-wan listened as Anakin, taking a deep breath, told him about the dream.

* * *

"I meditated on it for hours. We both did. And even know, I'm not sure it all makes sense."

"Well, try. I'm listening."

"There was this little girl," Obi-wan explained as Sabé moved about the kitchen on theStar Rider, "she was burning in flames. And what I think happened was Anakin had a vision. I think he was seeing the future, or at least, a future that could have been. Sometime in the future that won't be any longer, Luke was dying in Force lightening. Anakin sympathized with the girl, because he had lost a child, or would have, in much the same manner. But I don't understand what she meant by it was his fault, or that he would suffer now because of it. I just don't know." Sipping his hot coco, Obi-wan leaned back in his chair. He looked up hopelessly at his friend.

"What do you think it means?"

"I don't know either. I'm not a Jedi."

"Sabé."

"Look," the handmaiden took his cup and refilled it, all the while looking beautiful and young. Obi-wan kept his eyes on the table. "You said it yourself. Anakin is going through a very hard time. But surly these dreams don't really mean anything. Not if they're visions of a future that would have been."

"You don't think...?"

"No," she sat down across the table from him, wrapping her hands around her own mug for warmth. It was cold here in the hanger. "No, I don't think they could still happen. You said he saw Luke, our little Luke, dying. Even if he did turn back, I don't think he'd ever allow something like that to happen." Sabé took a sip, continued, "To Luke, or Leia, or Padme. Or even you. He loves you, you know."

Blushing, hiding his face in his cup, Obi-wan uttered something inaudible and Sabé chuckled.

She waited for him to lower his cup, looking deep into her own, then gazed up from under her bangs. Sabé chewed uncertainly on her lip, then sighed. "You know..." she looked into the Jedi's eyes. "he's not the only one."

Obi-wan sighed, leaned back. "Sabé, we've talked about this."

"I know, but-"

"No. No 'buts'." Obi-wan rose from his seat, away from her. She wanted to rise and go after him, but knew it would only push him farther away. "No. I have a duty to the Jedi Order. I know. Anakin and Padme. It's wonderful. But he broke tradition. Had he still been a Jedi and the Council had found out, he would have been exiled. And yes, that didn't happen. And yes, it was his family that brought him back. But I'm not Anakin. I can't disobey as easily as he did."

"Obi-wan, there is no Jedi Order any longer." Realizing her voice sounded as though she was pleading, Sabé bit down on her tongue and rose to throw out her drink. "Fine."

"Fine? That's it?"

The handmaiden snapped around to glare at him. But she couldn't hold it for long. Her handsome Obi-wan, the Jedi Master who had been her friend since his first visit to Naboo, looked so vulnerable after her rejection. Vulnerable, and utterly cute. Sabé sighed and turned away.

"Yes, fine. What more do you want me to say? You said no. I respect that. But" she pointed a warning finger at him. "That doesn't mean anything has changed. I'll wait, Obi-wan. But I won't wait forever." She headed for the door.

"This isn't about us, Sabé." He called after her. "This is about Anakin's redemption. About the rebellion and bringing down the Empire. About two little twin children-"

"I know. I know." She rolled her eyes. "Two little twin children who are the hope of a galaxy and the Lightside. Don't you think I care? I do, and I love them. But Obi-wan, you can't just dedicate your life to the Skywalkers. If Anakin knew, he'd be furious with you. He'd say you've got to live life. Is it such a sin that I want to live it with you?"

She turned away, not waiting for an answer.

Obi-wan didn't have one to give anyway. He heard the ramp open, her boots as she stormed down it, then the sound of metal on metal as it slammed shut behind her.

Was it such a sin? Anakin had defied the Council, and thousands of years of tradition. For what?

For love.

And, it had, in the end, saved him.

Sighing, Obi-wan sat back down at the table and stared into his drink. He didn't need saving. But then, maybe Sabé was right. Maybe, if you knew what love was, if you had found someone in this galaxy that loved you, you were meant to hold onto them, no matter what.

And he had told Anakin not so long ago that sometimes traditions, especially those of the Jedi Order, were not right in the things they demanded. Had he changed his mind?

This, on top of strange dreams, was too much at the moment. Obi-wan refilled his cup and drank deep, intending to drown all concerns, at least for the moment, in chocolate milk.

* * *

"That...that man!!"

It was a phrase she had heard a thousand times, probably one as old as the galaxy itself. She'd even said it herself from time to time. Jan looked up from her lunch to see Queen Amidala's handmaiden storm into the mess hall, her face flushed with irritation.

The young woman grabbed a tray, threw on a plate and shoved her way into line. The rebels already in line glance over at her. The women smiled knowingly, and the mend just got the hell out of the way. The aliens, and there was a growing number of them day by day, just shrugged. Humans were complicated.

Ignoring her audience, Sabé, for Jan remembered that to be the woman's name, filled her plate with today's lunch and stormed over to an unoccupied table.

Hunkering down over plate like she was a solider and not the queen's lady, she began shoving spoonfuls of food into her mouth when she wasn't muttering.

Glancing around and seeing that everyone else had gone back to their meals, Jan rose from her seat, tray in hand, and moved to the young woman's table. She waited till the woman was busy chewing before making her presence known.

"Hi."

Sabé glanced up, choked and swallowed. Blushing, she reached for her glass as she motioned for the Sollik to sit.

"I...uh. Hi. Sorry. I didn't realize you were standing there. I didn't mean to be rude. It's just...uh..."

"Guy trouble." Jan replied knowingly.

"Yeah." Sabé glared down into her plate, viciously attack her peas with her fork. "Guy trouble. Specifically, one guy."

"Your husband?"

The handmaiden snorted, shoved her potatoes into her mouth. "I wish!"

"Okay. Boyfriend?" She didn't wait for Sabé to agree or not. "So what happened? Did he turn you down?"

Smiling for the first time, the other tore off some bread. "No. I turned him down. He was being impossible. I know he loves me. No matter how he tries to hide it, I know. It shows up in the little things. The way he doesn't worry about me. Because, you see, he worries about everyone else and always is trying to protect everyone. Not me. Or how he comes to me for advice when he's a Jedi Master. Oh, he never brings me flowers or anything like that. But he smiles when he's with me. And that in itself is such a rare treasure."

Jan's smile faultered.

Eric used to bring her flowers. On their very first date, he had brought her a bunch of roadside daisies, held together with a little blue ribbon. But he didn't hand it to her. Instead, he'd pulled the bow open and the daisies started to fall. She had been surprised when they'd suddenly spread wings and taken flight. Butterflies. Each one caught for her.

One had landed in her hair for a moment, then took off with the others.

The memory darkened, faded.

"Hey, are you alright?"

Jan looked up, blinking the tears from her eyes. "Yes. You said something about flowers. I was just remembering the first 'flowers' my husband gave to me. He's dead now."

"Oh," Sabé's sympathetic eyes locked with hers. "Oh, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. It was...some time ago. He and my daughter died after the Empire destroyed our village. After that, I came here."

"And I for much the same reason. After Theed, on Naboo, was destroyed, I had nowhere to go. My Lady, Padme Skywalker that is...well, she is my family now. And my home. Her twins are the children I may never have. They're the sweetest things. How...how old was your daughter?"

"Six."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, ...er, I'm afraid I don't know your name."

Jan reached across the table, offering a hand. The handmaiden took it smiling. "Jan Sollik. And I know who you are. I think by now, everyone knows the Skywalker family. Was it General Kenobi you were so stormed up about?"

Nodding, Sabé finished up her lunch and pushed it aside. "Yes. You know, if he wasn't a Jedi Master, I'd think him a village idiot."

"All men are. It's part of their charm."

A number of men, sitting not to far away, raised their glasses at that and cheered, 'Here's to us village idiots!' Sabé and Jan laughed, then rose from their seats to throw away their leftovers. Sollik paused at the men's table to affectionately pet one of them, then grabbed their dessert and ran after Sabé.

The guy grunted, then turned back and laughed at his friends. She'd stolen his dessert.

"I'm on my break," Jan said as they left the mess hall and headed down the corridor. "How about you? We could hang for a while."

"No, I've got to get back. My Lady has a conference with the Council soon. Anakin... Lord Vader just finished up with another interview, and she needs to be there. I've got to watch the twins."

The twins!

Images of her own little daughter, lost now, rushed to the forefront. Here was her chance. Maybe the only one she might have. With the Dark Lord and his wife at the conference, there would be no one there but herself and the handmaiden.

But could she go through with it?

Well, that was what she was trying to find out, wasn't she? Couldn't back down now. It was, Jan reminded herself, the only way to be sure. And the only chance she might get at it. Better now, then later, when Vader himself might be there.

"I love children." She told Sabé, wincing inside at how sincere she sounded. Was she actually going to fool this woman into letting her get at the children?! "Like I said, I'm on my break. Would you mind if I joined you?"

Sabé beamed and nodded. "With these two, any help would be welcome."

The handmaiden turned and headed down the corridor and, hesitating for only a moment, Sollik followed.

She saw again Micha, trapped in the house, her little hands reached out through the window, through the flames, to her mother; calling to her. She wondered if Vader would ever be able to love his children as much as she had loved her own.

Jan pushed all other thoughts save the twins from her mind and quickened her pace.

* * *

"I'm so proud of you, Ani." Padme, holding her husband's arm, gave him a squeeze. "You did so well. And all that information! About the fleet and...Palpatine! Do you know what this means?"

Yes, Anakin thought to himself, turning away from the Conference room and turning down the hall, his wife at his arm. He was all too aware of what it mean.

Once again, he had betrayed something and someone he had once believed in. When he had first joined the Emperor, he had shared with him all he knew of Jedi secrets and of the Old Republic. And Palpatine had used that knowledge, and him, in bringing down the Order to which Skywalker had once been loyal. He had betrayed Padme, Obi-wan, and everyone who had ever considered him a friend or ally.

Looking back, he was ashamed to know he had felt no remorse for his betrayal. And yet, now, betraying the Emperor, he had doubts, even knowing it was the right thing to do.

Padme continued on, unaware of her husband's doubts.

"It means we've got a real chance at defeating him now. Of destroying his tyranny and bringing freedom back to the people of the galaxy. A New Republic!"

A new republic? The idea was a bit grand for Skywalker. And it left a bitter feeling within him. He had sold his soul to wash away the corruption that had festered in the Old Republic and had mistreated its people. Now his wife wanted to undo that?!

Calm, he quickly told himself, pushing away the Darkness. Padme would not let the same disease that had spoiled the government of old seep into the new.

"Yes," he agreed half-heartedly. "A new republic."

"Ani?" Padme looked up worriedly. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, just...just a little tired, I guess. A little uneasy. I feel like...like I've had someone in my head, wondering freely around and reading all my thoughts."

Padme nodded, understanding. It was as though the Council members had been reading his mind. They had picked and prodded and asked thousands of questions, accused him constantly of holding back and then demanded more. It had not been an easy experience. Anakin had been forced to lower all his shields, to forgo his personal privacy and his sense of security. She could not blame him for feeling as though he had been violated.

"I understand, Ani. Go back to the room and rest for a little while. Check in on the twins. I'll see you again later. I've got one last meeting."

Then she kissed his metal cheek and left.

Anakin watched her till the door slid shut behind her, then turned down the corridor in the direction of their quarters. He needed some time to sit and think. With the lights out and no one demanding anything of him. It would have been eve nicer to have the helmet off during that time, but that wasn't an option. The rebels didn't have the equipment he needed. So he would shut himself up in his room and hope Obi-wan didn't come looking for him.

The last thing he needed right now was any sort of lecture.

But then again, maybe he did need to talk to his former master. Maybe Kenobi could help him understand why it was he had doubts about betraying the Empire. Surely it had been the right thing. And yet...?

Skywalker was trying to reason with himself when he turned down the last hall before his quarters, and the sense of unease touched him. Not his own, concerning his change of loyalties. It was someone else's.

The twins? Or someone near them?

Hadn't Padme left Sabé with the children? Had something happened to her?!

Increasing his speed, Vader charged down the hallway and slammed his fist to palm the door open. As he stormed in, images rushed over his and for a moment he was blind. Bright, flickering flames surrounded him and the voice from the dream brushed against him like lava.

_They're just children..._

Children!! Someone was hurting his children! Someone was threatening them!

The father in Vader rose up, the need to protect, and without realizing Vader reached for his lightsaber, only to vaguely remember he had given it to Obi-wan and it had yet to be returned.

Lack of a noble weapon wasn't about to stop him. Vader reacted with the first thought that came to mind.

He called on the Force, felt the Dark energies fill him, close all the gaps that his doubts had left. Behind the mask, he smiled. There was the rush, the hungry need for power. Filling him. Guiding him. To kill, to destroy. The need to protect had been forgotten. Here was a life to take.

Vader reached out, preparing to choke the life out of the being, just as they being had been intending to choke the life out of his children.

* * *

Jan followed Sabé into the little apartment shared by the woman and the former queen. It was not very big, almost as small as Sollik's own. It made her wonder just how glad the Council actually was to have the former leader back, if they treated her in such a manner.

"How long do you intend to stay here?" She heard herself asking. Sabé looked around the tiny room and shrugged.

"Probably not long. Just till the interviews are over. After that, I don't know where Padme and Anakin will decide to go. But for now, we're content. It doesn't seem like much, but," she smiled, "I've known some worse places."

Jan wanted to ask where, but a small cry sounded from the bedroom and Sabé laughed and went to answer to child.

When the babe hushed, she poked her head back into the room. "Jan, could you please get me the extra bottle out of the heater, please? My arms are full at the moment." The pilot nodded and brought the requested bottle from the kitchenette. She brought it into the other room and found Sabé holding two babies and trying to feed one while the other kicked and fussed.

"Here, let me take one." Sollik reached out and Sabé handed her the fussy one, who turned out to be a little girl with the most beautiful brown eyes. They were like melted chocolate. The baby grinned up at her, grabbed the bottle and sucked loudly. "What's her name?"

"That one's Leia. And this little angel over here is Luke. It always amazes me the way these two interact. Leia was the one who started to cry when we came in. But she wasn't hungry. She just wanted us to know her brother was. Luke is really the quiet one. Sometimes," the younger woman admitted, shifting the child in her arms, "I worry. If they're this Force sensitive at only two months, how sensitive will they be when they're older?"

Jan, who had been staring at the little girl, looked up surprised. "Force sensitive?"

"Well," Sabé chuckled. "They are Anakin Skywalker's children, after all."

Yes, they were, weren't they? She had almost forgotten that. Both had seemed so sweet, so innocent. Like to regular children, not the offspring of one of the most sinister men in the galaxy.

Jan looked down at Leia. The brown eyes looked right back at her.

It had been a long, long time since she had held a baby, but Sollik hadn't forgotten how. The soft little bundle of love calmed her somehow, and for a few moments at least, pushed aside the memories of Micha, when she had been this small. She wanted to hold Leia close, protect her, and never let her go.

Seeming to know this, Leia giggled, milk dribbling down her cheek. Jan gently wiped it away.

Well, she had come here looking for answers. Could this be it? She had wanted to be sure her intentions were the right ones; that what she intended to do was what needed to be done. Could she be so easily undone by a child's eyes?

Sighing, Jan hugged the little girl close and drank in her baby scent. Somehow, she was comforted knowing she had been wrong. These babes were not Sith spawn. They were just innocent children, carrying none of their father's curse. Yes, they were Force sensitive. But if they grew up in the Light, loved and well taught, they might one day be Jedi.

So. The children would live.

Jan sighed, kissed Leia rocked her gently. Sabé watched her, but said nothing.

It was something of a relief. Jan wondered if she would have been able to kill the twins. The thought disgusted her, but she reminded herself that if they had been children of Darkness, she would have done what was necessary.

But she couldn't hurt them now. Even if they were Vader's children.

They were, after all, just children...

And, she suddenly thought, something this good, this innocent, could not come from something so evil and corrupted as Darth Vader.

'Oh, now you're also willing to give Vader the chance of a doubt?' she sneered at herself. 'Don't forget what he took from you. What the Empire stole from you. It was why you came here in the first place. He took Micha from you. So you were going to take his children away from him. And yes, now you know the twins don't deserve to die. But Vader?'

Could she forget and give him the chance for the redemption? Everyone else seemed willing to give him time to prove his loyalties. But would giving him that be like betraying Eric and Micha? Their memories?

Memories...

The thoughts of fire rushed back. They smothered her, stealing her breath, as they had stolen Micha's life. As she had intended to steal the twin's. To smother them. Choke the life out of them, till Vader knew the pain she lived with everyday since the baby's death.

And suddenly, she couldn't breath.

The air rushed out of her body, and she couldn't suck in any more. Her hands nearly flew to her throat, but she remembered Leia was in her arms and fought the instinct. The images of fire lingered in her mind, along with that of lava, and then a dark figure filled her vision and she tried to scream.

Like Micha in all her dreams, even though she opened her mouth and cried out, no sound reached her ears.

* * *

Vader stormed into the small bedroom, his thoughts of fire and his intentions to kill.

And he was only just in time. The threat, a woman a few years his senior, held one of his children close against her. Little Leia. His daughter!

The Darkness roared in his ears and Vader reached out, pulling upon the energies that called to him. He took only a moment to see that Sabé was unharmed, clutching Luke to her and looking with alarm from Vader to the woman. He used the Force to push her back out of harms way, then turned his full power on the murderess who crumpled to her knees before him.

He would make her pay...

* * *

Jan clutched the child to her and stumbled back, gasping for breath. But there wasn't any. The only thoughts she had now were of fire, of the babe in her arms and the desperate struggle for life. She had to fight!

Opening eyes, she sought out her enemy and found Darth Vader towering over her, his fist raised in the air, clenched. Her eyes bulged, realization penetrating the fog that filled her brain.

He had felt her intentions! Oh, she had been a fool to think he wasn't aware of her. And he had come to kill her. To protect his children. Little Luke and beautiful, innocent Leia. Could she really blame him, though? She would have done anything to protect her own. Her little Micha. Nothing but ashes now.

She had been unable to save her own child from killers. And now, she had threatened to take someone else's.

It was only right Vader save his children. It was only right. Jan bowed her head and stopped trying to fight for breath. She felt the Force around her windpipe tighten and she shut her eyes tight, waiting for darkness to overtake her.

And somewhere, in the back of her mind, Jan realized she had forgiven Vader. For her families death, and now her own. She wondered what that was like. Forgiveness.

Sollik ceased trying to protect Leia, and laid the little girl down before her last strength gave out and she dropped the child.

Leia began to cry...

* * *

The images of fire ceased, and Vader pushed through the shield of grief the woman had long ago constructed in her mind.

And there, in the moments she struggled for breath, he watched with bewilderment, the death of her family. It was the dream. He retreated, the read her thoughts. This woman, Jan Sollik was her name, she blamed him. The Empire, as well, but mostly him, Darth Vader, for his little daughter's death. But he hadn't been the commander of that mission!

He felt her own confusion, her own anger that turned her bitter inside. Like his own anger and grief had once done.

Did he sympathize with this woman?!

No. She had tried to kill his twins! But there, in the back, a soft whisper as her brain began to shut down, was the feelings of forgiveness, of the need for forgiveness. And the desperate want to protect his children, as she had been unable to protect her own.

From him.

Shuddering, Vader pulled out her mind in time to hear his daughter crying. Quickly, he left go of the Force and reached down the scope the child up. Holding her close against him, proving to himself she was alive, Skywalker drew a deep breath and pushed the Darkness away.

It was difficult. He had allowed himself to be consumed by it. Disgusted with himself, Anakin held Leia closer and whispered soft words till she ceased her weeping.

He needed to kneel down and see to Sollik, but he couldn't with the babe in his arms.

"Sabé?" Anakin had forgotten the woman was even in the room. For a moment, he was terrified she had been hurt in his rampage; that the incident that had taken place so long ago in the palace on Naboo had happened again. That he had hurt her. But his friend remerged from the main room, looking unscathed. "Force. Are you alright?"

Nodding, the handmaiden moved forward and took Leia. "Yes. I called security. They should be here soon. Is she..." she looked down fearfully at Sollik. "Is she dead?"

Bending down on one knee, Vader lifted the woman up and held her against him. No, her presence in the Force was weak, but she was alive. And she was breathing. A good sign he hadn't done irreparable damage to her lungs.

"She should be alright."

When Sabé only looked at him, a hint of fear in her eyes, he sighed.

"I'm sorry, Sabé. I didn't...I didn't mean to do this. It was...I could feel her intentions. Or, at least, what had been her intentions. She wanted to kill the twins. Or would have, if they had been..." and here, he swallowed, disgust filling him again. "If they had proved to be like me. Evil."

He turned back to Sollik, thinking how grateful he hadn't killed her. That at the last moment had had pulled back.

Sabé knelt beside him and, hesitating only a moment, reached out and wrapped her arms around him.

"You're not evil." She whispered. "You were only protecting the children. Like a father is supposed to."

"I would have killed her." Darth admitted. "I would have stolen the breath from her body and just let her die. Just like I used to do to...to...others. To innocents. I was hoping...hoping I had overcome the Darkness within me. But it's so easy. To reach out and just let it control me. What am I going to do?"

There was a loud slam as the door was forced open and a number of security guards rushed into the room, with Padme and Obi-wan on their heels.

His wife rushed to the crib and pulled both children into her arms, weeping with joy that they were unhurt. Anakin watched her for a moment, then lifted Sollik into his arms, rose, and met the questioning eyes of Kenobi.

Taking a deep breath, he fought the shudder of guilt that coursed through him. "Obi-wan."

His friend hesitated, the fear clear in his eyes, the nodded. "Anakin. What happened?"

He was about to try and explain, to tell Obi-wan he had used the Darkside and that he had nearly killed the woman now unconscious in his arms, when Sabé placed her hand on his arm and gave him a reassuring look.

"I'll explain, Anakin. You need to get Jan to a medic."

Grateful, Anakin nodded and left with three guards, heading for the onboard medical unit. Sabé watched him go, then turned back to the Jedi Master, who looked worriedly after the Sith.

"Sabé. What happened?"

She waited till Anakin had disappeared around the corner, out of sight. Then she sighed and turned back to Obi-wan and Padme, who now stood listening, the twins in her arms. "I wish," she admitted, "that I knew."

* * *

She dreamt.

_There was fire. There was always fire in her dreams. And screaming, and this time, even the feeling of choking. Of lack of air. And from time to time, there was a huge, dark shape bearing down on her, reeking of death and destruction._

_And then the image would melt, and a young man would stand before her, looking remorseful and scared._

_He reminded her of Eric, on that first date. He had been so nervous and willing to please, to prove he was worthy. Oh, how she had loved him._

_But Eric was dead. And so was Micha._

_Was she?_

It was this thought that pulled her from the depths of dreams and brought Jan back to consciousness. She awoke to a white room of bright lights and concerned voices speaking out of her sight.

One of them was the voice of the Dark Lord.

Blinking, Jan was surprised to realize she was alive. Why? Why hadn't he killed her? Was Leia okay? Had she squashed the baby, or had she been able to set the child down safely? She couldn't remember.

"Whaaaa...what happened?" Jan managed to whisper.

For a moment, no one answered, then a voice she didn't recognize, probably the medic's, answered. "My Lord. She's awake."

The next moment, the hideous mask of Darth Vader came into her field of vision. He stared down at her, not saying a word. Sollik stared right back.

"Why...why didn't yu...you kill me?" she coughed out, her throat feeling raw and unused. How long had she been out?!

"Don't try to speak." The Dark Lord rumbled. When he saw her wince, he spoke softer. "Your lungs are a little sore, as well as your throat. Here, some water will help that." And he held a paper cup to her lips.

Jan looked incredulously at him.

"I'm not going to hurt you." The Sith promised. "Its just water."

Not really knowing what else to do, Jan tilted her chin down and let him pour the water into her mouth. It was like heaven! The water was cool and sweet, and it quickly soothed her raw throat and got rid of her cottonmouth. When she had enough, she pulled back and looked up at her...her what? Attempted killer? Savior?

She wasn't sure.

Jan looked up questioningly at the Dark Lord, wondering what he expected of her now. But before she could try to speak again, the Sith cleared his throat and spoke.

"I apologize for my actions earlier." He didn't seem to know what else to say, and shifted uncomfortably beside her bed. Sollik shook her head, wondering. Was this really Darth Vader?

"Nn...no." she coughed. "Mm...Mmsorry. Wha...was wrong." Jan swallowed, trying to explain to him despite the pain in her throat.

But as she prepared to speak again, she felt something. A soft touch, in the back of her mind. It was gentle, calming. It seemed to read her thoughts, to hear what she was trying to say without forcing her to speak. Jan blinked, shook her head, then stared at the Dark Lord.

Was he in her mind?

"Yes, I am." Vader shifted again, somewhat embarrassed. "I just thought it might be easier, so you don't put too much stress on your throat. If you want me to stop, I will. I wouldn't violate you in that way. Do you want me to leave?"

Whether he meant her mind or the actual room, Jan wasn't sure, but she shook her head no. She wanted him to stay. She wanted him to understand she hadn't meant to hurt the twins; that what she had been doing would have been for the greater good.

"The greater good?" Vader chuckled.

Her eyes shot wide open, then she turned away from his gaze.

She could feel from the presence in the back of her mind that he thought the 'greater good' to be an idealistic notion, and an excuse for her actions. He was right, of course. She had been doing it for herself.

"Yes, you were. I'm sure by now you and most of the Rebellion knows I was once a Jedi? Well, I too believed in sacrificing for the 'greater good'. I hid behind that concept, using it as a shield against the crimes I was committing. I thought, in the end, what I was doing would benefit everyone. And maybe, in some ways, it has. But if that were really true, there wouldn't be a rebellion, and people willing to die in the fight for a new government."

Sollik listened, realizing the Vader she knew and the one who was speaking now were not the same beings. Why was he telling her all this?

"I'm telling you this," the Dark Lord went on, "so we will understand each other. You hate me. I can feel it. It's like a roaring flame inside of you. You hate me because of something that happened years ago."

Jan felt tears pricking at her eyes, and she turned her head away, facing the wall on the other side. She didn't want him to see her weak. He could use it against her.

"Like I used the death of your family against you?"

When she sobbed quietly, but kept her face turned away, Darth sighed. The images came stronger now. Of fire and of little flowers that turned to butterflies. Of a beautiful little girl and the sneering faces of men as they leaned over her, tossing their stormtrooper armor off along with her clothes.

"The Empire hurt you." The woman nodded, trying to bury her face in the pillow. Her sobs hurt her throat, but she couldn't stop. "They took everything from you that you ever loved. That's why you were going to...to" Darth couldn't even think of his children in that way, or it would make it too real. "...to hurt me. Because I represent the Empire to you. Is that right?"

He received another nod in response.

Reaching across the pillow, he brushed Jan's cheek with his hand. At first, she pulled away, and Vader did the same, self-disgust coursing through him. Then his resolve hardened and he touched her again, pulling her face towards his mask.

Taking a deep breath, Darth looked her in the eye. "Would you," he asked, "actually have hurt my children?"

Jan stared up at him, seeing through her tears. The sobs still racked her raw throat and her lungs struggled to draw in breath. She trembled in his hand, the fear obvious in her eyes.

The woman shook her head, then started to cry harder.

Anakin took a shuddering breath of his own, and released it slowly. The dark feelings reseeded and he sighed in relief. He had been so worried. Both about her response, and what he would do when he heard it.

He had already touched the Darkness. What would have happened if she had forced him into protecting his children again? What would he have done? There was no telling if he would have been able to control himself had Sollik admitted to being able to hurt one of his twins.

"Lord Vader."

It was the medic again. She stood at the door, looking back and forth from him to the woman now weeping quietly in the bed. "Pilot Sollik should rest now, my Lord." She looked expectantly at him, almost as if she was waiting for him to challenge her.

Vader nodded, and started to rise, but a hand reached out and grabbed him. Looking down, he found Jan's red eyes staring up at him.

"Wha...wait, Vader."

"Skywalker."

Her brow creased for a moment, then she seemed to remember, and nodded. "I'm sorry. 'Bout Leia. Woo...wouldn't have huuurt her. Just...just you."

Vader nodded. "I know." He blinked as the images of fire brushed him again, the pain they caused stinging his mind. The Sith looked back down at the woman and found himself smiling. It was a bitter smile. She grieved as he did for the past, with the same regrets.

Reaching out to her, he waited for her to pull away again, but Jan didn't. She looked up at him steadily. When his hand brushed her forehead, he swept into her mind.

The Light filled him, as the Darkness had only a little while ago, and Anakin bathed her mind in its glory. Slowly, ever so slowly, her grief lessened and the fog of anger that choked her each time she thought of the Empire evaporated.

The memories would be bittersweet now. No longer as painful.

Pulling out her Jan Sollik's mind, Skywalker found her asleep, her face relaxed and all the tears dried on her cheeks. She sighed, snuggled down into the bed and he was left alone. He watched her till the medic stuck her head in again and demanded he go now.

Before leaving, Anakin added the horrific memory of Micha Sollik's death to the other nightmares that plagued his own sleep.

Jan slept peacefully for many hours, too deep for dreams.

* * *

Chapter Two The Rebel Standoff To Be Continued

Hmmm...wonder what the consequences will be for both Jan's and Darth's actions? Any guesses? And ideas? I'm not much of the crime and punishment sort.

Caslia


	11. Rebel Standoff: Chapter 4

* * *

I rewrote the first part over and over and over and over and over. I'm not really all that satisfied with it, but the Sabé/Obi-wan scene really makes up for all of the little mistakes. ;)

* * *

Continuation of Chapter Two:

The Rebel Standoff

Two months after Rebirth of the Light...

* * *

All things considered, the Council was very accepting of the incident concerning Jan Sollik.

After she had seen to it that neither of the twins had been hurt, Padme, accompanied by Sabé, went straight to the Council and explained what had happened. The handmaiden had explained how Sollik had requested to join her in taking care of the children, and Lord Skywalker had returned after a meeting and considered her a threat.

His actions, she stressed, were merely those of a father protecting his children. And no, there was no physical proof of the threat she had posed. But she had known Lord Vader...er...again, Skywalker, for some time now and trusted him to have done the right thing.

Anakin was not present during any of this discussion. When questioned about his location, Obi-wan simply replied he was in the infirmary with Sollik, keeping an eye on her.

He also requested that the Council keep an open mind about the events that had so recently unfolded.

"Understand," Obi-wan addressed the rebels, "that the reason Jan Sollik is with the medics is that in his fear for the threat she posed, Anakin struck her with the Force and tried to cut off her breath. This was typical behavior for him when he was a Sith. Anakin is extremely grieved over his actions towards her."

"As he should be!" one of the council members reprimanded. "Master Kenobi, you assured this council that you would be present at all times when Skywalker used the Force. We placed him in your care. And then this happens! Can you explain this to me, General?"

Padme sighed. This was why she had gotten out of politics.

"If I may," she started to say.

"No, you may not." The same member, one of the humanoids with a scaly face and rather cold demeanor, replied. "You, Padme Amidala Skywalker, are no longer a leader of this Alliance, nor a member of this council. Your emotional attachment to the Sith prohibits you from any further allegation."

Padme looked startled at his outburst, but otherwise didn't comment. She did not want to stir up any further trouble. As it was, the former senator rose to her defense.

"I believe that is uncalled for." Mothma stated simply. She turned her calm gaze on the council member. He raised an eyebrow at her, but otherwise bowed to her judgment and remained silent the rest of the meeting.

Mon turned back to the former queen. "You are, of course, aware that we are not knowledgeable about the Force, or its followers. But I would think it only natural that a Sith, struggling to redeem himself, would question both his conscience and his actions. And," she looked pointedly at the other members of the council, "we should be aware that mistakes will be made." She sighed then, looking 

many years older than her early twenties. Padme had great empathy for the woman. "Let us just be relieved no one, either the Jedi twins, pilot Sollik, or Skywalker himself, were harmed."

After that, the meeting quickly wound down. The decision was made they would talk further when Anakin had the chance to speak with Kenobi, and Sollik's condition, as well as her intentions, had been assessed.

Relieved, Obi-wan took Sabé, the babes wrapped protectively in her arms, retreated out into the corridor while Padme remained behind to thank Mon Mothma for her support. It was obvious to the Jedi that both the women were still very shaken up over the near loss of the children.

He decided it was best for them to return to the safety and familiarity of the Star Rider. Neither of them complained about his escort, but Padme did request he go back to their former quarters afterwards. That was where Anakin would be, when he returned from the infirmary.

Agreeing, knowing though not quite willing to admit he was as worried about Skywalker as she was, Obi-wan returned and waited.

When an hour had passed, he went looking for his friend.

Obi-wan shouldn't have been surprised to find the Sith in the hanger. It was where Anakin had always retreated to when he was a padawan, seeking sanctuary. He would spend hours there tinkering with the ships, fixing this, improving that. After a mission, Obi-wan would mediate to order his thoughts. Anakin would head for the hanger.

But no matter how much things stay the same, some change.

Anakin probably didn't find any smiling, welcoming faces when he entered the rebel hanger. In fact, Obi-wan's first clue that his guess about his friend's location was correct was the anguished looks of the mechanics.

A few glanced his way, and sighed with relief when they saw the Jedi Master.

Yep, Darth was here alright.

Anything from pre-Empire ships to a handful of spacer, pieced-together ships filled the hanger, numbering some fifty ships. All in all, a sorry sight, considering the fleet the rebel pilots would be up against in battle.

Obi-wan sought out his quarry by the string of curses he could hear behind one of the ships. He ducked under the nose of a strange, alien looking ship, the voice getting closer. He might have missed Anakin completely had he not tripped over a pair of black boots sticking out from underneath the hull.

Bending down, the Jedi looked under the ship to find Darth down on his back, tools in hand and an open panel before him.

"Anakin."

The Sith didn't look over at his friend, just continued to fight with cables as black oil dripped down on him. "Can you believe this? They don't make 'em like they used to. These new ships! They've got all their wires crossed! No wonder the engine leaks, they've somehow got it attached to the fuel pump, rather than having a conductor run between them. It's a surprise these babies don't blow up just taking off."

"Anakin." The Jedi Master's voice clearly invoked no argument.

"I don't want to talk about it, Obi-wan. I...I know I need to. It would be best if I did. I never talked about it before. Maybe if I had, this wouldn't have happened. But I didn't think I needed to. I didn't want to. I don't want to now. But I will. I need to, I know that. Just not right now. Later, maybe when I feel more like it."

"Anakin...you're rambling."

Sighing, Skywalker stared blankly up at the panel for another moment, tools still in his hands, then he pushed against the hull and slid out from under the ship and sat up.

They rested there a moment, Anakin sitting placidly on the durasteel, Obi- wan standing and smiling sadly down at him, nearly hidden behind his beard.

Finally, the Sith shook himself from his thoughts, gathered up his tools and rose.

He stretched and looked to his friend. "What are you smiling about?" The Jedi Master shrugged.

"I was just wondering how you talked the mechanics into letting you tinker with their ship?"

"You'd be surprised how far you can get when you ask politely."

"You actually asked?" When Obi-wan felt Darth's withering glare directed his way, he laughed and threw an arm around the other's shoulder. "Come on, Anakin. I'm not saying it was a first or anything."

The tools were soon returned to one of the mechanics, who smiled gratefully at Kenobi for coming to their rescue. After that, they just let their feet guide them and headed down the corridors.

"Where are we going?"

"Well," Obi-wan grinned sheepishly. "I was kind of hoping that since I hadn't had anything to eat since noon yesterday, we could just sort of head over to the cafeteria..."

"Sure. Fine. We'll get your complaining stomach something and I can sit there and be envious."

"Force, Anakin-"

Skywalker chuckled. "I was only joking with you, Obi-wan. Come on. There's this delicious looking sandwich I saw one of the mechanics eating..."

It was delicious, as it turned out. And Anakin did sit there and try to stifle his jealous as Obi-wan bit into it with relish. Afterwards, when Kenobi finally pushed his plate aside and smiled with satisfaction, Skywalker had gotten his thoughts in order and felt more like talking.

"I can't explain it." He said, longing to sigh deeply and run his hands through his hair. "Somehow, I sensed something was wrong. That there was trouble. And I guess, when I realized it was Luke and Leia, I just snapped. I let go of all my control. And there was the Darkness. Ready, willing...And so was I."

"Anakin..."

"What am I going to do, Obi-wan? I was so sure I was strong enough, that I could overcome the Darkness within me. And yet, every time I turn around, or look in the mirror, it's still there. And the only thing that's changed is I've hurt more people; made things worse."

Obi-wan listened, but wasn't quite sure what to say. He wanted to tell Anakin that is was alright, that even though he had made a mistake, it could have been a lot worse. That he...that they were both still learning, overcoming the past, each in their own way.

Yes, Anakin could have very easily killed the woman, and, if he had been so out of control he lost all sense of self, he might even had killed the twins in his attempt to protect them.

What was important was that he hadn't done these things.

But Yoda's words continued to come back to him, reminding them all that there was still Darkness within Skywalker, that his destiny was shaped by it, as was his soul. And as much as Obi-wan longed to prove his old master wrong, nagging doubts refused to leave him alone.

"Obi-wan?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

The Jedi looked up, watched the light play shadow games across the black mask, and shook his head sadly. "For what, Anakin? You made a mistake. But it could have been so much worse. I think we should count our blessings and learn from the mistakes made, rather than dwell on what can't be undone."

"I could have-"

"I know, Anakin. I know. But you didn't."

"And if I did? If I hadn't regained control? Imagine what might have happened, Obi-wan. I don't know whether I could turn back to the Darkside or not, but imagine, knowing what I know now, what might happen."

The implications of such a notion where terrifying, but Obi-wan pushed them aside. They were too much to think about now, would cause too much pain.

"Do you really think that after everything, you'd turn back again? Cause if you do, Anakin, if you really think you might turn your back on Padme and the twins to go serve Palpatine again...I think you need to go spend some serious time in meditation."

It was a pathetic attempt at a joke, but it did make Anakin smile, and that was really all Obi-wan had been hoping for. Later they would have to sit and talk seriously about the matter of Jan Sollik and the brush with Darkness. The Jedi Master knew it would weigh heavily upon his friend for sometime, as it would on all of them, now knowing that thin line between love and hate.

But at least for now, there was a little sun shining through the clouds.

* * *

It was probably a miracle Obi-wan had gotten him to smile that one time, because for what was left of that day and all through the next week, Anakin lost all his light. He didn't exactly mope about feeling sorry and disgusted with himself. It was more like he avoided everyone at all costs, going only to the requested meetings with council members and back to the ship to sleep at night.

Obi-wan was forced to corner his friend to talk to him, and even then Anakin seemed disinclined. The only ones he ever really talked to any more were the twins, and the medics on the few occasions he visited Sollik.

Between the three of them, Sabé was the most calm about what had happened. Probably because she had been there. True, she hadn't really understood what was going on at the time, but the fact that Skywalker had protected her from his wrath seemed to the handmaiden to be enough of a sigh that he was still on their side. She constantly told Obi-wan to leave their friend alone, that he simply needed time to work things out on his own and realize that though he had made a mistake, it didn't mean he had failed at redemption.

Padme was, understandably, the most worried.

She never spoke about it, but one could see it in the way she cast glances after her husband when he left the room, or how she winced when he pulled away from her touch.

Kenobi would have liked to tell his friend that his behavior and his constant need for solitude was too much like when he had been falling to the Darkside, and that it was scaring Padme. But Sabé warned him that that might not be the best thing to say at the moment.

So Obi-wan pulled away from Anakin, as did the others, and forced himself to accept that when Anakin wanted to talk, his friend could be comforted in the knowledge that Kenobi would be there waiting.

Anakin had a way of picking the most inconvenient times...

* * *

There was a knock at the door of his quarters late on evening.

It had become his quarters since Anakin chose to sleep on board the Star Rider now. Having been swamped with people all day, Kenobi was grateful for the solitude of a few hours sleep. So he wasn't all too keen on having to open his door and deal with someone else at this late an hour.

But when he palmed the door, he found it wasn't one of the council members.

Rather, it was Sabé.

"Obi-wan."

"Sabé. What's wrong? Is Padme all right?"

"She's fine. She's been asleep for a while now. Luke and Leia nodded off not too long after. Their Force powers have gotten stronger and they're always exhausted at the end of the day."

"Oh." So something wasn't wrong. Why was she here then?

Only then did he realize she was dressed only in a thin nightgown and a soft, white robe. Her beautiful chestnut brown hair had been released and flowed down her back in waves. All the make-up had been washed off, and the handmaiden stood there on the cold durasteel floor, barefoot.

"Force, you're going to catch a cold, Sabé!" Obi-wan glanced quickly around the hall before pulling her inside his room. "Or worse yet, someone's going to see you."

"Should I be flattered, Jedi Master? Or would it only be right to take offense to that rather rude remark."

Sighing, Obi-wan ran a hand through his hair as he looked her up and down. "You know that's not what I meant. But...what are you doing here? This late? Dressed like that?!"

The handmaiden glared and, to Kenobi's chagrin, wrapped the robe tighter around herself and belted it shut. "Oh, I'm sorry. Am I embarrassing your sentimental Jedi senses?" Sabé plopped down on the bed, plopped because there's no better word to describe it, and tucked her feet underneath her. "I couldn't sleep, and I thought since I knew you'd still be up meditating, we could be together."

"Oh," feeling like the perfect idiot, the Jedi Master shifted his weight, considered Sabé sitting on his bed, looking ever so expectantly at him, and nodded. "I'm sorry. Of course we can. I didn't mean anything by what I said. In fact...you look very cute."

Cute was completely the wrong word for how Sabé looked, but she smiled and Obi-wan took that to be a sign that she'd forgiven him.

Keep in mind Obi-wan doesn't really know all that much about women.

He moved to resume his meditating position on the floor, but Sabé reached for his hand and pulled him down unto the bed beside her. She smiled and snuggled up to him, but otherwise didn't say a word.

Touched, Obi-wan wrapped an arm around her and the two leaned back against the pillows. Sabé sighed deeply, content, and closed her eyes. Her breathing slowed; evened out as she glided in and out of sleep. Her hand closest to him wrapped around his own and gave it a gentle squeeze that he lovingly returned.

The Jedi spent a moment or two watching her, drinking in her beauty, before closing his own eyes and drifting into the most peaceful meditation he had ever had.

* * *

Sabé slept for a time, probably no longer than a few minutes, because when she awoke, their hands were still entangled and they had shifted closer to one another for warmth.

Beside her, Obi-wan snored softly.

She smiled, love shining deep in her eyes. Here was her beloved, asleep beside her. Sabé longed to wake him, so he'd be with her. But he looked so peaceful. His blond-red hair was slightly mused, falling gently against the pillow. And his beard brushed her shoulder softly. All the worry lines had vanished from his face.

Her Kenobi mumbled something in his sleep, and Sabé smiled down as she watched his lips. Leaning over ever so slowly, the handmaiden ran a hand through his hair, then placed her lips against his own and gave her gallant knight a gentle kiss.

It had been an innocent enough kiss, but she felt Obi-wan stir beneath her. Worried that he might wake up, she began to pull back. But when she did, two gray blue eyes were locked upon hers.

She almost gasped, but the look in them, the surprise and the love and, even more unexpected, the passion there, held her captive.

Taking a tentative breath, Sabé lowered herself back down and waited. Those eyes continued to consider her for a moment, seeming to not quite know what to do.

Then Obi-wan leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers.

His own hand came up to run through her hair, another one wrapped around her. The Jedi pulled her closer to him, possessively, as though he would never let go.

Sabé wasn't quite sure this was happening. She had dreamed of something like this. But she had known it was only a fantasy. Obi-wan wasn't really the romantic type. If he chose to give in, to admit he loved her, he would do so as a conscious, calculated thought. This was far from the sort of rational person Obi-wan was.

Or was it?

Realizing she was seeing a new side to the man she loved, a side she had longed for but had never thought would ever be, Sabé responded to Obi-wan and wrapped her own arms around him. Her hands mused his hair, pulling him closer. Loving the smell, the feel of him...

"Obi-wan?" There was a loud knock at the door.

"What the– ?" Obi-wan jumped a meter into the air, bringing Sabé along with him. Then he pulled away from her, the taste of her lingering in his mouth, as he promptly fell off the bed.

Sabé gasped, realized who it was, and nearly screeched.

"That's...that's Anakin." Obi-wan panted. He looked to Sabé, clear misunderstanding in his eyes, then jumped to his feet. "What...what's Anakin doing here? I...he...he's supposed to be on board the ship. I mean the...ummm...he..."

"Obi-wan?" Anakin's voice called from outside the door. "Is everything alright?"

"No, everything is not alright." Sabé sighed, laying back on the bed. Oh, it had been glorious. Wonderful. True heaven, if there was such a thing. And now, it was gone. And if Obi-wan regained his sense, like he no doubt would, he'd never trust her again after this.

Skyalker knocked again at the door.

"Ummm...just a second, Anakin. I'll be right there." Obi-wan looked around, dazed. He quickly straightened out his robes, which had somehow gotten messed up while he slept. Glancing toward Sabé, who laid upon his bed, her beautiful legs showing where her nightgown had been shoved up; her hair spread out behind her in a fan, Obi-wan nearly told Anakin to get the hell lost.

But reason prevailed, and Obi-wan grabbed the blankets off the end of the bed and threw them over the handmaiden. Sabé looked utterly puzzled by his actions, but nonetheless helped the frazzled Jedi cover her till she was completely hidden.

She considered mentioning that Anakin would have already felt her presence in the room, but decided Obi-wan wasn't really in the frame of mind to completely appreciate such an observation.

Sabé giggled as she watched her staggering Jedi back away from the bed.

Obi-wan took a deep breath, let it out in one big 'whoosh', and palmed the door.

When the door slid open, Anakin stood waiting outside. He gave Obi-wan a quick once-over, then stepped within. The door slid shut with no one saying anything.

Kenobi moved between his friend and the bed, hoping he wasn't being too obvious.

"Anakin..." he got out. "You...wanted to talk?"

"Did I interrupt your mediating, Master?"

Kenobi shifted uncomfortably. "No, not really. I had dozed off. And I've told you not to call me 'master', Anakin. It's giving me the creeps." Okay, so that wasn't what he had meant. Kenobi wondered if his brains had somehow been fried.

"Sorry. Listen, Obi-wan. I'm sorry I've been acting the way I have. I realize it's been making both you and Padme uncomfortable. I apologize. It's just...I needed to think things out, about what I did and almost did, and the consequences of both."

Oh, Force, why couldn't he concentrate? Anakin was here for his help, to talk about the incident with Sollik. This was what he had been waiting nearly a whole week for!

Gulping, Obi-wan nodded. "Go on, Anakin."

"No, it's late. I have a lot I need to talk about. With someone. Anyone. Could we discuss it, Obi-wan? In the morning. I need your help. Again."

There was the need to sigh in relief, but realizing that might give him away, Kenobi squashed it and tried to smile encouragingly. "Of course, Anakin. In the morning."

Anakin thanked him, then let himself out.

Chuckling to himself after the door had shut, Skywalker turned down the corridor and headed for his wife's quarters to see the twins.

Seems he hadn't been the only one reconciling with himself...

* * *

After Anakin was gone, and the door was firmly locked, Obi-wan let out the breath he had been holding and leaned back against the door. The only thing running through his mind was what if Anakin had found out.

Then he looked down at the bed.

Sabé's beautiful head came out from underneath the covers, a wicked smile on her face. Then one of her gorgeous legs slide out, and all thoughts of Anakin thankfully vanished from Kenobi's mind.

He silently moved to lie back down on the bed beside her, but Sabé sat up, straightened out her gown before Obi-wan could protest, and stood.

"What...were are you going?!"

She tightened the robe's sash, not looking at him. "Back to my quarters."

"But...Sabé, I..."

"I didn't come here with the intention to seduce you, Obi-wan. I'm sorry things got so out of control. And I'm leaving now, so you won't have anything to regret in the morning."

"Wha? No, Sabé, please! Really, I– !"

Smiling, the handmaiden leaned down and passionately kissed him, silencing all protests. Her lips were so soft, her smell so intoxicating. Obi-wan moaned, but when he reached for her, Sabé pulled back. He looked up at her through half closed lids.

"You have to sleep now, Kenobi. Your friend will want to see you first thing in the morning and you need to be at your best, Jedi Master." Having said that, she turned out the light and palmed the door. Sabé smiled at him once over her shoulder, then was gone.

Obi-wan remained sitting on his bed, frozen in place. Her presence still lingered in the room, and when he stiffly collapsed onto his sheets, her smell surrounded him.

Into the darkness he growled, "I am going to kill Skywalker."

* * *

Chapter Two The Rebel Standoff To Be Continued

:) Oh, that was so much fun. ;) Caslia


	12. Rebel Standoff: Chapter 5

Sorry, I didn't realize I was so far behind in posting on . Only my other boards, it's not so complicated so I post more often. My bad. More on the way!

* * *

Continuation of Chapter Two:

The Rebel Standoff

Two months after Rebirth of the Light. . .

* * *

Anakin wasn't all that surprised when he returned to the med center a week later to find that Sollik had been released. She hadn't waited around for him to pay another visit.

In some way, he knew he should feel a little hurt. But he was more relieved than anything. If Jan was back up on her feet, and probably back in her fighter as well, the damage he had done to her had healed, and maybe so had her feelings towards him. Either way, Anakin doubted she would prove to be any more of a threat.

With the pilot returned to duty and Obi-wan pursuing Sabé, Anakin found more time for himself.

True, not to long ago, after the near disastrous confrontation between himself and Sollik, Skywalker had cut himself off from everyone. Had sought solitude to work out the emotions boiling within. But this was a different sort of aloneness. It wasn't self-exile, rather, a time to reflect.

Never having taken the time to do this sort of thing before, he was at first uncomfortable. But as the quiet hours passed in the back of the _Star Rider_, and he found looking inside himself didn't only mean seeing his Darkness as well as his Self, Anakin found it refreshing. The meditation that had once bored, or worse, frustrated him, became a time of solace and consolation.

There were, of course, things he had to be careful of. One of them was brooding on the past, something that came all too easily to Anakin.

But the past, as terrible as it had been, was pushed back into the shadows, when the light of his new life shown into his mind. Luke and Leia, his innocent twins, were the very life and breath of him now. The day they had been born was a Force-send for Anakin, as it had been for all of the growing Skywalker family. And every day after. More and more, Anakin could look at his children and see himself and Padme. It was a miracle, a true wonder. These two little beings would one day grow up and live their owns lives, reach their own goals, but would always be able to look back and know their father was there for them.

The thought that he might not have been, had never known of their birth and thus never been their true father, worse, might have become their enemy when they were grown and training as Jedi, was a thought that horrified Anakin to the depths of his soul.

And that might have happened. . .

There was an irony in knowing that in sending his apprentice away, Palpatine had given Vader the chance to return to the Light. Unknowingly, of course. But the fact remained. As did the Emperor. . .

That was something else Skywalker was careful not to brood on, while he sought himself during these meditation. The Emperor was searching for him, seeking the Sith Lord that had disappeared nearly two months ago. But what Palpatine didn't realize was that that man, or at least that part of Anakin, no longer controlled him. He was free, partially, at least, of the darker side of himself.

He was convinced now that even though he had used the Darkside against Jan Sollik, the fact that he had overcome it, had even healed the damage he had done to her, proved the Darkness' grasp on him was weakening.

And when that happened, he would be free of Palpatine forever.

Until he had to face him, that is.

Though no one ever spoke of it, especially Obi-wan, Anakin knew it was what was expected of him. No one had called him the 'Chosen One' for almost three years now. But he was. Deep inside, he knew it, accepted it now as he had never done so before. And with that title came responsibility.

It was his destiny to bring Balance to the Force.

But what was Balance? No matter how much he meditated on it, Anakin was still uncertain. The Jedi version of Balance was Light, without a trace of Darkness. The complete destruction of the Sith. But was that really right?

More and more, Skywalker had come to realize that it might be possible for the Sith and the Jedi to co-exist. True, the bond of friendship and a shared past were what made it possible for him and Kenobi. But what if there was more to it then that?

Cautious, remembering what had happened the last time he had questioned the validity of Jedi logic, and the price he had had to pay, Anakin decided it was probably best to leave that thought be, and discuss it later with Obi- wan, when he wasn't so. . . occupied.

Anakin smiled, pulled himself from the trace and rose to his feet off the cold durasteel floor. His legs ached from sitting in the same position for so long. He made a mental note to request a potassium injection from the medic some time soon. Along with a number of others. His supplies was beginning to run low. If he had enough of a stomach left, Skywalker thought it would be growling in annoyance. As it was, he didn't, which was a good thing considering he ate paste and vitamin enriched jello most of the time.

In one of the more recent interviews, he had explained his need of an oxygen chamber, due to the risk of disease, or inflictions. The council members had been very understanding, and had even promised him one before the week was out.

For now, he simply made due.

Mediation finished and body anxious to move, Anakin left the cargo hold, grabbed a box of tools and headed outside. There were still parts of this ship that needed tinkering. And, if he finished with those, he was sure there were other ships lying around this junk heap that could use his skills.

The engine proved to be enough to entertain him.

And if that wasn't enough, Obi-wan joined him shortly thereafter, for the most unusual conversation he had ever held with his old master.

"What am I going to do, Anakin? I am completely lacking in experience here. How in the world am I supposed to court Sabé if she keeps avoiding me?!"

The concept of Obi-wan trying to 'court' anyone was almost too much for Anakin, but he kept a straight face and his attention remained locked on the panel he was working on. Taking his time in answering, he pulled out a mini-laser from his tool box.

"Obi-wan, I don't think Sabé wants to be 'courted', so much as she wants to be loved. She's had feelings for you since the two of you met on Naboo. And she's been very accepting of the fact that you're a Jedi, and can never have a relationship. But now that the Jedi Order is...well, not really a consideration, I can imagine how much she really wants to be a part of your life now."

"But she's avoiding me!! I know things could have turned out better the other night-"

"Night?" Anakin asked innocently. "Something happened?"

"What?! NO, no!" Obi-wan looked terrified, then when he realized Anakin was trying hard not to laugh, smiled sheepishly. "Okay, so something almost happened."

"But I interrupted."

"Yes, you. . . hey!" To Skywalker's delight, the Jedi turned a charming shade of red. "You knew?"

"Obi-wan. Of course I knew."

His friend seemed too stunned to respond, but the second after the blood drained out of his face, Obi-wan, contrary to his gentle nature, took a swing at Anakin. There was no real anger behind it, and it would have been easy enough to duck, but Skywalker let it connect on his right arm, the one that wasn't connected to the hand that was holding the laser tool.

He didn't feel a thing anyway, considering that arm was the one he had lost on Geonosis.

"Feel better?"

"Yeah." Rubbing at his knuckles, Kenobi opened his mouth to say more...

. . . and alarms started going off.

"What's going on?!" Completely caught be surprise, Anakin almost dropped the laser. The whole hanger was suddenly illuminated with red light, bells were going off and people were shouting. Mechanics and pilots swarmed the hanger. Obi-wan whispered a curse, jumped down from beside Anakin and took off without him. "Hey!"

Throwing his things inside the toolbox and using the Force to gently lower his less then athletic body to the hanger ground, Anakin glanced around in complete confusion.

His heart had to be doing a hundred beats a minute. People running past, getting ready for something, made him want to grab a lightsaber and follow, take action. The adrenalin was turning his body to fire, a familiar and not unwelcome feeling. If he knew what was going on.

Intending to follow Kenobi and find out, he turned and ran right into a pilot. He mumbled an apology and tried to move past, but the person caught him by the arm.

"You'd better get the hell out of here."

"What?"

"Fire up your ship and hit full thrusters. People are saying you brought the Imps down on us." When Skywalker didn't move, the pilot grabbed at her helmet and pulled it off to reveal the face of Jan Sollik, reinstated and on duty. She stared up at Vader, waited till he started with recognition, then swung her head in the direction of his ship. "Go. It's unlikely we can beat the Star Destroyer, but if we do, there are gonna be those that will want your head."

"Imperials?" The situation finally clicked with him, and Skywalker turned to look out the atmospheric shield into space, as if being able to see them would confirm their existence.

His first thought was to wonder if he really was responsible for them being here. That somehow, despite all his efforts, Palpatine had located him and was here now, to destroy his former apprentice. His second, and a lot more frightening then the first; was knowing the fire power of the ships baring down on them, and that their guns would be pointed at this frigate. The frigate his wife and children were on.

"Yes, Imperials." Sollik stuffed her helmet back on. "Now fire up that ship of your and get the hell out of here." She turned on her heel and took off at a run for her beat up fighter.

One more casualty of war, knowing she was dead already, only doing what she could until her body discovered what her mind already knew.

Pushing back the thoughts, realizing if he didn't move, if he didn't do something, he was going to go into some sort of shock, Anakin slammed open the ramp and stormed into the Star Rider. He needed to get out, into space. Needed to aim at something, to fire. To take part, do his share.

Run? Running wasn't something he could do now. Anakin barely stopped himself from sneering at that thought as he fired up his engines and prepared for battle.

He couldn't leave. Couldn't just escape. Sollik was right, that people might believe he had brought the Imps down on them. And maybe he did, Anakin didn't know. But he couldn't just leave. Padme and Obi-wan were still here. Inside, somewhere, probably with the council members, at some command deck. Watching as their pilots, courageous beings that they were; fly out to engage an enemy they had no chance of defeating.

For the first time in a long time, as he hit the thrusters and roared out of the hanger after the fighters, Anakin remembered what he had felt like, being in battle. Going up against an enemy where the odds weren't in his favor.

This wasn't some weak Jedi he would toy with, and then cut down as soon as the fun grew tiresome. This was a Star Destroyer, up against a puny, pitiful, rag-tag squadron of pilots willing to do-or-die for their freedom.

There were tears in his eyes as the stars filled his view, and he caught the first sight of the Imperial ship. Here were emotions he had forgotten, the rushing sensations of battle, of doing something right even when you knew it might cost you your life. The thrill of flying again. Even the aching fear of realizing if you failed, hundreds would die. And lurking just underneath it all, there was another, older emotion.

Sympathy.

It touched him just as the TIE pilots, humming like insects, flew out of the belly of the Star Destroyer to engage the rebels. Each of their minds was locked on a single purpose, and that was to destroy.

This is what the Empire did to people, Anakin thought to himself, his hands flying over the controls while his mind wandered. What it had done to him. Stripped him of emotion, of care. Of the ability to think for yourself and make choices, even if they were the wrong ones. Anakin no longer felt like he had made a wrong choice when he had betrayed the Empire's secrets. But in some ways, he did feel like he had betrayed the men who had served under him.

Now they would all die. Oh, some would survive this battle today, one that was drawing ever closer as the two squadrons covered the space that separated them. But either way, lived would be lost.

There was static crackling over his radio, and absently he realized it was Obi-wan's voice. Something about pulling back, about disengaging.

He didn't bother to respond, knowing his friend wouldn't understand. Skywalker had to do what he could to protect them, just like all the others were. Taking action seemed the only logical course at the moment. Kenobi wouldn't listen to him if he tried to explain. No one would listen.

Or would they?

The thought struck Anakin just as the first TIE within range opened fire on the little rebel fleet. Another one followed it, then more, coming in brilliant reds and greens from both sides. There were pilots shouting over the comm., even Sollik's voice. Everyone was firing now, lighting up the emptiness of space.

But Skywalker didn't fire.

Awakening as if from a trace, Anakin let out a low curse and turned his attention to his controls. In the time it took to take a single breath, he had switched all power from weapons to shields, then killed the thrusters and opened up communications.

He changed the channel just as Obi-wan began to demand, not for the first time, just what Skywalker was doing. The Sith switched over to another channel where familiar accents reported back and forth; an Imperial channel.

"Any Imperial officer, do you copy? I repeat, do you copy? This is Darth Vader."

There was a long moment of stunned silence, then a shaky voice replied. "Lord Vader, sir?"

"Is this the Admiral?"

"Uhhh. . . no, sir. This is Captain Czeckov, sir. Commander of the 43rd TIE fighter unit. Beg your pardon, sir, but...we're in the middle of a battle at the moment..."

"I know, Captain. Listen to me, this is a direct order. You are to order your men to stand down. Do you copy? They are to cease firing and return to the Destroyer."

"Uh, sir..." the pilot hesitated and Anakin held his breath. It had occurred to him there were a number of things that could easily go wrong with his plan, if it could be called that. But the next moment the Captain cleared his throat. "Uh, yes sir! Right away, your lordship."

And the firing stopped.

At least, from the Imperial side, it did. The rebels, at first not catching on that their enemy had retreated, and probably thinking it was some sort of trap, following the TIEs back to the Destroyer, hammering them for all they were worth.

Switching back to the rebel's channel, Anakin was just in time to hear them receive similar orders to pull back.

The Imperial commander, no doubt confused, and probably vexed, as to just why his fighters had disengaged, was the sort of commander Vader once would have been choking this very instant. Rather 

than reacting, firing on the fleet with the Destroyer's own guns, the Imperials sat idly, probably waiting for poor Captain Czeckov's explanation.

Knowing that he would tell them disengaging had been a direct order from Darth Vader was something of an amusing thought.

Anakin sobered quickly, though, knowing the punishment the man would undergo.

But he had saved lives, both rebel and Imperial. And that of his family. He was relieved, even grateful, that his 'instant plan' had worked. Of course, he'd have some explaining of his own to do. . .

"Skywalker?"

Jan Sollik's voice, loaded with static, sounded over his comm.. Pulling back on the thrusters and roaring away from the idle Destroyer, Anakin opened the channel to her and the rest of the little fleet.

"Sollik."

"Was that your doing?"

"Yeah. Sorry it took me so long. Did you loose anyone?"

The pilots called off, and everyone came up alive. One mentioned a minor concussion he'd gotten after taking a hit, and another complained of burns, but otherwise they were all alive.

Anakin enjoyed the comm. chatter, something as an Imperial he would never have allowed. But now, after a battle that had been short and, more or less, victorious, it was relaxing. Good, almost, to hear other beings' voices.

He almost went into shock, for a second time that day, when he looked up to see the rebel fleet, along with the Medical Frigate, was gone. His first thought was that when he hadn't been looking, the whole ship had been blow away. Sollik, as if sensing his panic, was quick to inform him she had received a communication from the fleet, and that they had used his little distraction to jump into hyperspace.

She sent him coordinates and told him to prepare for the jump.

"What did you do?" one of the pilots in Red flight, no doubt a young and starry-eyed kid, asked. "All of the TIEs suddenly just stopped firing and went home."

Skywalker chuckled. "They got an order from Darth Vader, something they can't ignore. Apparently, the Emperor hasn't let it be known just yet that I've become a traitor to the Empire. A good thing he hasn't, or that would have been a Super Star Destroyer, rather than one of the regulars."

"A Super Star Destroyer?!"

"Yeah. It was something the Empire was working on, one of their military 'secret's. I've been on one of them. Real monsters. Five and a half kilometers long, holds up to two million men and over thirty TIE squadrons. And more laser cannons then anyone cared to count."

"By the gods." Jan sucked in a deep breath, the static of the comm. unable to hide the fear in her voice. "How are we supposed to be able to beat something like that?"

Despite the distance between them and the poor condition of the comm., Jan could hear the sorrow in Vader's voice when he replied simply: "You're not."

Then they hit the thrusters and hyperspace swallowed them.

* * *

His landing back in the hanger, after having regrouped with the rebel fleet at another undisclosed location, was only somewhat celebratory. Mostly, it was embarrassing.

"Anakin, what in the world did you think you were doing?!"

"Obi-wan..."

"Are you insane!?" The Jedi threw his hands up and continued to shout, catching the attention of a number of pilots. Even Jan glanced up, smirking when she saw Skywalker squirm under Kenobi's criticism. One other, who had flown back as his wingman, gave him a thumbs up as he walked past.

Anakin sighed in annoyance.

"Obi-wan, could you stop for a moment, please?" He smiled as Padme entered the hanger; do doubt here to rescue him. Her beautiful smile set to ease all the worries he suddenly realized had been weighing him down. She and the twins were safe.

Padme, beaming, walked around the still ranting Obi-wan, swung back her arm and gave him a solid punch in the arm. The real one, this time.

"That's gonna bruise." He muttered.

"Well, you deserve it!" Padme replied coldly, the smile gone. "Do you have any idea how bad you scared me? You didn't answer any of our hails, Obi-wan said you blocked him from your mind. Sabé couldn't get the twins to stop crying. For a moment I feared. . . "

Anakin winced, feeling a pain that wasn't caused by his wife's good arm.

"You thought maybe I was switching sides again."

Padme's cheeks colored, and she sighed. "I'm sorry, Anakin. It's not that I don't have faith in you. I do! It's just. . . "

"I know." Reaching out, Anakin pulled her up against him and sighed when she relaxed and held him close. "I understand. It's okay."

Obi-wan, who'd finally run out of breath, sighed in exasperation as he looked at the two. Truth was, he was really proud of Anakin for what he'd done. Both rebel and Imperial lives had been saved. Kenobi admitted to himself that he simply wasn't ready for Anakin to go running off or pulling any of his old stunts again.

He just wanted to keep Skywalker close, and preferable safe, for a little while longer.

If the former Sith was going to go running off without him to try and save the whole galaxy, Kenobi was going to have to be a bit more on his toes. And not so concerned about a certain handmaiden...

"Skywalker!"

Sighing, Anakin pulled away from his wife and her wonderful presence to see Mon Mothma, followed by Sollik, and about half the council, enter the hanger and head straight for him.

A frown creased his brow and he tightened his grip around Padme, drawing her close. "Save the day, get my ear worn off by a ranting Jedi Master and punched in the arm by a wooly bantha and what do I get? Politicians."

"Wooly bantha!?"

"Down, Padme." Obi-wan winked at his friends. "I'm sure he didn't mean it."

"Skywalker." Mothma called again, breaking into the little family circle. Her face was like stone, and her mental shields were up, allowing no emotion whatsoever to seep through. "Would you mind explaining to myself and the Council what you thought you were doing?"

"I tried to explain," Jan nodded at Anakin, also frowning.

"My thanks, Sollik." He replied, then turned to the younger woman. "Madam, I can assure you, I meant no ill to the Rebellion. Actually, I initially went out to add my guns to your firepower. However, another solution presented itself and, hoping to prevent the loss of any of your brave pilots, I took a shot in the dark. Luckily, the Imperials are as stupid as people have been telling me the last few weeks and it worked."

The council member nodded slowly, as if digesting and logging his comments away for later. "So I am to presume Captain Sollik's report is accurate?"

The Sith and the pilot exchanged glances, one questioning, the other steadfast.

"And her report stated..."

Mon's eyebrow rose slightly, and a small smile curled round her lips. "Why, that you saved the squadron. And maybe even the rest of the fleet. A very noble and heroic deed on your part, Skywalker." Anakin let out a breath, and made a note to privately thank Jan. "Of course," the woman continued, "there are questions about just how the Imperial fleet found us, and also as to just why you would risk your own life for those who had only two months ago been your enemies. But...I don't think I really believe you would endanger the lives of your family."

Mothma smiled then, and extended a hand toward Anakin, one that he took only hesitantly. "Congratulations, Anakin Skywalker. You have earned the trust of the Council, and" she glanced at Jan, "even that of our squadron. You're proving you have both compassion, as well as conviction to a cause of good. You should be very proud of him, Master Kenobi."

Obi-wan moved to speak, but Anakin stepped forward. "Pride, Madam?"

"Yes. I can imagine what it took for you to fight against men who had once served loyalty under you. To have to face them on the other side of battle must be very difficult."

Ah, yes. The feeling of betrayal he had felt in battle, looking out at the TIEs coming towards him. Knowing he and those youths were so terribly similar. Knowing he would have to kill them. Afraid, for just an instant, that when one of the ships was close enough, so close he could look into the cockpit and see the boy there, that when one mask stared right back at another, he'd see a younger, angrier Anakin.

What would it have cost him, he wondered. To see himself in one of those kids, then blow them to hell? Would it have been liberating? Or another nightmare to face each night?

Anakin didn't want to know either way.

"Yes, it was very difficult." He felt he was speaking through cotton-mouth. He'd meant what he'd said to Padme, about not being sure he wanted to trust a 'New Republic'. And here were all his reasons, looking him back in the face.

"But I don't feel proud, Madam. About anything I've done, or anything I might have done today. That was a battle, and beings could have lost their lives. I was just trying to prevent that. I'm not interested any more in anyone's 'cause for good.' The Empire was once such a cause. Beware becoming what they are in your zeal to be so righteous."

And while Mon Mothma was still gapping at him, Anakin took Padme by the hand and turned to leave the hanger.

Jan fell instep beside him for a moment, helmet under her arm, and smiled. "Well said, Skywalker. You handled yourself pretty well out there. You want me to see if I can get you a place in the squadron?"

Padme smiled, "It might help to keep him out of trouble."

"Wooly bantha."

"Nerf herder."

"Politican."

"Am I supposed to resent that?"

Chuckling, Anakin gave his wife's hand a squeeze, then smiled at the pilot. "I'd be very grateful. But I don't want to cause any more trouble, between you and your squadron, or between you and the Council. My thanks anyway, Sollik."

"Jan."

"Jan, then." He stopped and offered her his hand, much as Mothma had, except this time with sincerity. "Anakin Skywalker. Former Jedi and Sith Lord." His grip tightened on her hand, but reassuringly. "Do you think we can start again? Friends?"

She had a beautiful smile, for someone who had thought she had forgotten how. "Friends."

Jan watched as the former Sith, his angelic wife beside him, left the hanger, walking hand in hand. A moment later, the Jedi Master followed, smiling at her briefly. The Council members remained behind. They didn't seem to need her, so Jan headed back to her quarters for a shower and a cup of coffee.

She and all of the other pilots had made it out intact today, thanks to the man she had once so passionately despised. And now, they were friends. The irony of it all.

Besides, Skywalker probably needed all the friends he could get.

* * *

The former Captain Czeckov, and we say former for a very good reason, was marked a traitor and his body cremated without honor. His ashes were dumped in the garbage disposal, his family notified of his disgrace and untimely death, and the whole matter put aside.

A pity.

If the man had been allowed to live, the Emperor might have rewarded him for his mistake. Generously, at that.

As it was, that wasn't going to happen. In fact, both Czeckov's life and death proved to be of little concern, save for one vital piece of information he had supplied. In fact, this information was what had condemned the man, even though he swore upon it with his life.

It was for this the Emperor would have decorated him for.

Ah, well. Much the pity now. If only the captain had known that by reporting the truth to his superior, and having it written down in his records, and therefore read by Intelligence, had he, this single, insignificant, former captain of the 43rd TIE fighter squad, allowed the Emperor to discover just what had become of his wayward apprentice . . .

* * *

End of Chapter Two The Rebel Standoff

:D Wee! That was fun!

And yes, from now on, Anakin will refer to himself as a iformer/i Sith. He just needed to get a bit of his confidence back. And, the whole 'cleaning and eating' thing is being dealt with. Don't worry, I take good care of my Darth! ;)

We start the third chapter, The Return Home next time! Caslia


	13. The Return Home: Chapter 1

_And then one day, she could take it no longer. Caslia grabbed at the slave chains that bound her, wrapped them tightly around the bloated Darth Real like and choked the very breath out of the monster! There was a horrible, ghastly sound as the body deflated, leaving only a tiny, trembling goblin, no taller than her knee, to sneer up at her._

_It squeaked out something that sounded vaguely like 'what are you looking at? why aren't you working?' before Caslia lifted her boot and repeatedly stomped on it. Just to make sure, she pulled out a blaster and used up all the charge on the bloody little smidge on the floor._

_Wearing a satisfied smirk, she went off to write a post._

* * *

Chapter Three:

The Return Home

Six months after Rebirth of the Light. . .

* * *

In a lot of ways, it might have been better that the Imperial attack had taken place. While it had driven a wedge between Anakin and Mon Mothma, it had, at the same time, formed a bridge between the former Sith and the fighting men and women of the rebellion.

That wasn't to say it was a completely good thing the fight had happened, or that the confrontation between himself and the rebel leader could have been avoided, but Anakin decided to look at it as a good thing.

Nothing else recently had proved to be much of a problem, more like minor irritations, and Skywalker didn't want to jinx it.

One minor irritation was his health. The promised oxygen chamber faded into the background, forgotten. Considering it had been four weeks now since he had last been able to properly deal with hygienic needs, Anakin was considering bringing the problem to attention.

Obi-wan beat him to it.

"I'm leaving for Thantinia tonight and you're coming with me."

"What?" Anakin pulled himself out of the deep trance in which he had been meditating and looked up to find the bearded Jedi standing with hands on hips, upside-down before him. Skywalker had been meditating in the cargo hold of the Star Rider for a number of days now, and usually Obi-wan never intruded on his solitude.

Anakin was cheered to find he wasn't annoyed by this interruption, rather, was pleased to know his friend had sought him out.

"I said, I'm leaving for Thantinia. And you-"

"Are coming with you. I got that part. Why?" Careful after sitting for so long, listening to his mechanical leg creak under him as he pushed down on the ceiling and slowly turned so that Obi-wan was right-side up again, then extended his legs and stood firmly on the floor.

There was a momentary rush of blood from his head, and in that time he thought he heard Obi-wan say something like 'I'm going to kill Sabé'.

"Wait." The former Jedi blinked, considered rattling his head to see if any compartments in his hear aids were loose, then thought better of it. "You're going to kill Sabé?"

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

Anakin considered the wisdom of carrying this insane conversation any further.

Curiosity won over wisdom. "Seriously?"

"No, damn it!" The Jedi threw up his hands and began pacing the width of the hold. Anakin watched him, smiling. "She's driving me crazy! Either I can't do anything right, or what I do makes her blush and turn away." Obi- wan rested his forehead against the freezing cold of the bulkhead and sighed. "I swear to you, if I don't leave soon, get a little time away to think this out, I'm going to kill her."

"And we can't have you turning to the Darkside over a woman."

Obi-wan turned slightly, just enough to keep his forehead against the cool wall and glare at his friend over his shoulder. Clearly he was in no mood for jokes.

"Okay, okay." Anakin raised his hands in surrender, another smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I'm sorry. You're having relationship difficulties and I'm not helping."

Kenobi snarled and swung round to point an accusing finger in Skywalker's direction.

"Oh, you can sound all superior and confident. You and all your experience with love and women and no doubt saying the right thing and making them melt in your arms. I'm sure it was so easy for you to make Padme fall in love with you. You always did have charm, despite your temper. Did you even bother to woe her, or did she turn to mush in your arms and all you had to do was carry her to the bed?"

The words had the desired effect. Anakin's mood immediately darkened and he crossed his arms over his armor, glaring at the Jedi Master. The cloak of Darth Vader, the imposing figure that clearly stated he had taken offense, settled gracefully on his broad shoulders.

"Consider this a friendly warning, Obi-wan. That's my wife you're talking about."

Kenobi threw his hands up and, in exasperation, gave up. "Is everyone against me today for some reason?"

"I think," Anakin replied evenly, "that you're the one making them enemies, at the moment. Calm down and get your head back on straight."

"That's what I intend to do. That's why I'm leaving. It'll take two weeks to get to Thantinia and then back. A whole month. Time to meditate and relax. To think this through. I need to get away from Sabé, from the council. They're still concerned about the attack last week. Constantly badgering me. Don't you see? If I could just get a little time away..."

"So what do you need me for? Sounds like you need some solitude."

Even as he said it, Anakin blanched. A whole month without Obi-wan. What would he do? Obi-wan was like his mentor, his constant and only Jedi companion, as he couldn't yet count the twins. When he strayed or became aggravated, Kenobi was there to help him find his center again. Skywalker hated to think he was dependant on his friend, adding another burden to the load already weighting on Obi-wan's shoulders. But there were times it was Obi-wan, not Padme, that Anakin sought to help him when he felt lost.

"You're my legitimate reason for going. The council has been slow to approve the building of an oxygen chamber. They seem to think that you can survive inside that suit for an indeterminable amount of time and be perfectly fine. I try and explain, but they just nod and go on. So, you and I are going to Thantinia and get your ship. I can some time away. You get the oxygen chamber."

An oxygen chamber. Anakin could feel his body demanding the helmet to be removed, to feel even purified, lifeless air on his face.

If he'd been intending to argue over going or not, that intention had died without even a whimper.

Nearly shoving his friend out of the way, Anakin called over his shoulder as he headed for the ramp: "Fire up the engines. I'll go tell Padme."

* * *

The journey from the rebel fleet to Thantinia was long and, thankfully, uneventful. Padme had looked somewhat disappointed that her men were leaving, but hadn't said a word against it.

Anakin almost felt guilty, knowing they had barely had two months together after being separated for nearly a year. But both of them knew it was best he went, first to get the oxygen chamber and second, to see to it Obi-wan didn't do anything drastic.

As it turned out, the one mishap that might qualify as an event was Obi-wan and a disastrous attempt at cooking in the mini-kitchen of the Star Rider. Anakin easily banished the Jedi for that part of the ship, leaving him to eat rations and what ever food, already prepared, that he could scrounge.

They spent most of the time apart, Obi-wan enjoying the solitude, Anakin using the time to hone his fighting skills, quiet his raging thoughts and root out further Darkness in himself.

The rest of the time he occupied himself with tinkering with the systems and, most surprisingly for someone who once had never been much for history or politics, brushed up on his current events.

"I can't believe some of the stuff I'm reading." Anakin announced one evening as he slapped a sandwich together for Obi-wan. "Just three days ago, there was some scandal among Reci nobility on their homeworld, a sector that's under Imperial military protection. The king died without naming an heir and his sibling's children, two rivaling princes, started a civil war. The Empire got wind of it, sent down troops. . . " Anakin paused in his story and breathed deep.

Patiently, Obi-wan waited.

Careful to control his anger, Skywalker continued. "They 'regained control of the situation' and the Emperor 'assigned a temporary governor' till the planet could overcome the civil unrest."

Bringing the finished sandwich on a plate over to where Kenobi was sitting, he sighed and sank into the opposite seat. Picking up the meal, Obi-wan eyed it suspiciously, took a bite, then with all seriousness, asked, "So?"

"So," Skywalker nearly roared, "I know what that means. Hell, I've been on enough of those assignments to be able to write a first-hand biography on the events. The troops landed, slaughtered everyone who put up a resistance, destroyed the palace, threatened the life of all those who might oppose them, and then Palpatine put some loyal, ambitious weasel on the thrown. Someone he can control and manipulate. I wouldn't be at all surprised if the Empire had killed the king and started the whole war in the first place!"

Sighing, he leaned back and snorted. "And to think I once encouraged. . . aided in such ventures."

Obi-wan considered his friend while chewing his second bite, then waved the sandwich in Anakin's direction. "What was it you thought the Republic did?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

The Jedi shrugged, took another bite. "I've been giving this sort of thing a lot of consideration lately. When I'm not dodging Sabé or the council, that is. Think about the Jedi, Anakin. What was it we did on all those missions? When there was unrest or discontentment, either among the people or the provincial government, we went in, tried to make peace, battled against those that we believed to be in the wrong, set in power the person the Republic considered to be the proper source of authority, and left. Pretty much the same thing the Empire does, except the excessive amount of killing. That's what the Jedi did. We weren't so much peace-keepers as we were the officials' private little police force, in the end at least."

If this had come from anyone else, Anakin might have argued. But having heard it from Obi-wan, Yoda's favorite pupil, the most loyal, dedicated Jedi, the most esteemed Force user of his generation, was something akin to having a blaster bolt between the eyes.

Already Skywalker had made up his mind about the Republic, even before he had begun to serve Palpatine. As a child and a slave, he had seen first- hand the failings of the galactic government.

But the Jedi, for whom he had lost all faith in, only to recently discover he had done them not only a great disservice, but maliciously threw back in their faces all the things they had tried to teach him so that he might become a better person, to hear this said of them! But then he did have to ask himself, to make the comparisons.

And in the light of Obi-wan's observations, he found the Jedi Master was right.

It worried him, to a great extent, and Anakin gave it a lot of thought in the dwindling days of their journey. He had hoped to be absolved of his crimes against his former friends and masters, hoped to make up for the wrongs committed out of resentment and bitter denial.

But this wasn't right. It was unnerving to know that as a Sith he had, rightfully, believed the Jedi had needed to be exterminated, only now to learn that while the individuals hadn't needed to suffer, the institution had in fact needed to be disposed of.

Such thoughts lingered, as would others in the coming days. . .

* * *

All their time couldn't be spent separately. It was a relatively small ship and even with Obi-wan needing a bit of time alone, he sought Anakin out some evenings and they played a game of holo chess.

Their games usually lasted well into the night. Both Jedi were good at tactics and strategies, their pieces picked with the greatest care.

But Obi-wan, being the more experienced of the two, had the upper hand and Anakin didn't really mind conceding from time to time.

It was during one such game, where Skywalker was picturing his defeat only half and hour into the play, his friend sighed and leaned back, giving the game board only a quick glance. "Did you ever worry about how it might affect your relationship with Padme? Your Force powers?"

Caught unawares by the question, Anakin fumbled and his piece was easily destroyed by Obi-wan's. Cursing himself for having been so easily distracted, he also sat back in his seat, shifting uneasily. His old master had never asked him anything about his courtship of Padme or their resulting marriage. Sure, there had been many accusing questions when Obi- wan had first learned of it. But, Anakin reflected, he had dodged even those. He had always supposed Padme had simply answered them later, in the long months she spent with Obi-wan in hiding.

"We were always both more concerned about how my being a Jedi and her a politician, and the responsibilities that came with both, would influence our lives."

Kenobi nodded, moved another piece on the game board.

And that was the end of that conversation. But it still weighed heavily on Anakin's mind. What would be the effect of his powers, now that he and Padme had a future together? And the twins?

Would Luke and Leia be allowed to remain with their family, growing in the Light and all the love their parent's could give them? Or would the remaining Jedi, Obi-wan and Yoda included, take them from him?

Anakin didn't have any more answers about this then what he was supposed to do about Palpatine, or what bringing Balance meant, or if he was right to side with those intending to construct a new republic. And even more disheartening, Obi-wan locked his own thoughts away, never bringing up the subject again.

The former Sith remained in a dreary mood the rest of the journey, till the ship landed on the lush planet of Thantinia and the ramp lowered to reveal the rolling green hills and bright blue sky under which his children had been born...

* * *

Sighing in pure delight, Obi-wan looked up at the sky and watched the clouds pass by.

"Force, it's good to be back here."

Anakin, standing a little ways off, nodded in agreement. He couldn't hear anything but the wind blowing through the trees and the occasional bird's song. It seemed no wonder he had found his angel and two gifts of the Force on this majestic world.

But then he was reminded of why they had returned and began to scan the horizon for sign of the Imperial shuttle that had originally brought him here.

Off toward the east, just over a rise there was the shine of white metal, the very tip of the ship seen as the bright sunlight reflected off of it. It looked completely out of place against the natural beauty of Thantinia and Skywalker felt an old twinge of disgust at having soiled such a world with his presence. But with the memory of his wife's smiling face, the feeling passed. He glanced over at Kenobi, who was smiling and quite enjoying himself.

"Go on. I'll wait here for you. Contact me on the comm. when you're ready to go."

"Unless you want to stay for a day or two."

Obi-wan considered it, then shook his head. "No. I may have come here to get a little time away from everything and clear my head, but not to shirk my responsibilities. We have to get back."

Nodding, Anakin turned and headed for the Imperial shuttle, leaving Obi-wan to enjoy the sunlight and fresh air alone.

Everything was, of course, exactly as he had left them.

To have expected otherwise would have been. . . well, strange. And yet, Anakin had, for some reason, thought that things would seem different when he returned to his ship. The first time, he had felt revulsion and even fear at returning to this symbol of his enslavement.

After waiting so long for an oxygen chamber, so as to be able to take off the mask, Skywalker would have thought he'd been thrilled to finally arrive.

But the moment the ramp lower, he wanted nothing more than to turn away and walk back over the grassy hills to where Obi-wan waited. Wanted never to enter the ship, never to return to it.

Never, ever, ever be dependent upon it or the Empire or the Emperor ever, ever again.

It was childish to want and think these things. And knowing it was what got his feet moving again and into the shuttle.

But his revulsion faded to a slight hum when the chamber doors shut behind him, the pure air filtered into the room and machines removed the mask. Sighing deeply, blinking his blurry, damaged eyes in the bright light of the room, Anakin rejoiced in his momentary freedom.

It was, like all things, to be short-lived.

After completing his necessary hygiene activities and checking his store of vitamin solutions and protein capsules, Anakin radioed to Obi-wan aboard the Star Rider that everything was set and he was ready to leave.

Another two weeks in space, this time completely alone, did nothing to excite the former Sith. But the thought of now having the oxygen chamber, of having at least that little freedom and maybe, just maybe, the chance to see his wife's face again with his own eyes, that would be his substance, what he would think of for the duration of the time.

That, among other, less joyful considerations.

What should be done about the Emperor, about this 'new republic' and the knowledge of the Jedi Obi-wan had brought to light, would also occupy his mind in the lengthening hours.

By the time they returned to the rebel fleet, and both the Star Rider and the Imperial Shuttle, now rechristened _The Krayt Dragon_, had landed within the hanger, Anakin knew what he needed to do.

Before he could take on the duties expected of him, both as a reformed Jedi and as the legendary Chosen One, he had to complete his redemption. And the next step in that meant leaving.

It was time he went home.

* * *

Chapter Three the Return Home To Be Continued

Oh, one thing I realized while preparing for this chapter was, I needed to explain the times of the post. Like this one is six months after the original story. That pretty much just means that since the twin's birth, a period of six months has been covered by the end of the chapter; not that at the beginning of this chapter, has it been six months. You get it? Sorta? Kinda? No? Oh well.

More soon! :D Caslia


	14. The Return Home: Chapter 2

So, here we are, another day, another season, another post. Shall we?

* * *

Continuation of Chapter Three:

The Return Home

Six months after Rebirth of the Light. . .

* * *

Anakin hadn't been back with the fleet for more than a day when he broached the subject with Padme. She was playing with the twins when he knocked, and Sabé answered the door.

Her welcoming smile was reassuring.

"Anakin! My lady, your husband has returned." Padme looked up from the nappy she was changing and a beautiful smile lit up her face.

"How was your trip?" Skywalker shrugged, stepped to the side as Sabé, with a knowing look, slipped out the door. It swished shut behind her and the little family was alone. "Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, better. Padme, we need to talk."

Leaning down, Anakin picked up his son and cradled the little boy in his arms. Luke giggled and wrapped his little hand around his father's. When Anakin flexed his hand, bringing the child's hand close to his heart, Luke squealed with joy and his father beamed with pride. "He's getting stronger."

Padme, Leia in her arms, sat on the bed and motioned for him to join her. "As well as in the Force?"

The Force. And the Jedi. More and more to think about. Skywalker grimaced when he told himself he was delaying this by playing with the children. But such a thought bordered on the neglect of the Darkside and he quickly pushed it away. Yes, he was delaying, but only because he was trying to be careful. Joining his wife on the bed, he sighed and shifted Luke so he could take Padme's hand.

"I…I know I just got back. And you haven't seen me for a month now, but…"

"But?" Padme's eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed quickly and she nearly snatched her hand away. She had heard her husband's excuses before. "But what, Ani?"

"But…I need to leave again." She did try to pull away then, but he tightened his hand, not enough to her hurt, and held Padme where he could look into her eyes. "Not because I don't want to be with you, Padme. Or because of the Rebellion. And I don't want you to think I'm running away. Even if I were, where would I go?"

His wife swallowed. "Back to the Empire."

"Do you really think I would do that to you? Do you really think I would abandon you again? That I would go back to Palpatine? Put my family in that kind of danger?" When Padme shook her head, afraid to try and force words past her now dry lips, Anakin sighed and released his hold. "I would never do that, Padme. And I'm not doing it now. But there are things I have to do, people…people and places I need to return to."

"Where? Where would you go that I can't follow?"

Anakin wanted to say the Darkness. That she hadn't followed him; hadn't come after him when she had the chance and that had nearly condemned him to eternal slavery. But he knew that wasn't true, and that the words would have been too harsh. He settled instead for reasons less severe.

"The Rebellion needs you. The twins need you. I can't ask you to travel across the galaxy with me. But I can't stay here." He raised her hand to his heart, wishing she could feel it beat beneath his armor. Maybe…maybe when he returned, when he was whole at least in spirit, he could stand to have her touch him.

But not yet. He would save the removal of the mask and the revealing of his physical depredation for another time.

"I have to go, Padme. Try and understand."

His wife, her loving eyes starting to tear, shook her head, sending curls flying. She hugged her daughter closer and looked away. "I can't, Anakin! You left me, only to come back so you could leave me again! What am I supposed to think? How can I understand?"

Hurt, but determined, Anakin struggled for a way to make her see, to explain without having to truly share the depth of his anguish, of this need. "I have to go back to Tatooine, to my mother. To my roots and where this all started. I don't…I don't understand why this was done to me, why I became this…this monster." At that, Padme turned back, silver tears glistening on her cheeks. A hand rose to his mask to hush such a terrible word, but she brushed metal and pulled away.

Anakin forced himself to repress a shudder.

"I have to know why. Or at least try and understand how it happened."

"And if you don't find the answers you seek?"

"Then at least I have been given the chance to apologize. To my mother. To my half brother and his family. And then, I have to go to Naboo. I can't go to Coruscant, or Palpatine and demand answers. And the Force…well, Obi-wan would tell me it's up to me to interpret what the Force is saying. And I don't hear anything."

"Obi-wan?" A small ray of hope shown in Padme's eyes. "What does he have to say about this? Surly…surly, Obi-wan can…"

"Can what?" Anakin frowned, wondering about the real meaning behind his wife's words. What had Obi-wan done or said in the past, that would make Padme think he would now speak out against her husband? Obi-wan had never been able stop him before.

He crushed that thought quickly. If he had listened to Obi-wan, had been stopped…

"Obi-wan won't try and convince me not to go, Padme. We've already talked about this. He's in with the Council right now, requesting permission. I need to go. I have to go."

Padme considered getting up and leaving the room. Or maybe bursting into tears. Or maybe just screaming at her hard-headed husband. But none of those things, she knew, would be enough to make him want to stay. He said he need to go. She didn't want to stop him, didn't want to stand in his way.

But there was a time, not so long ago, when not having done those things meant loosing him for, what had thought to be, forever.

Could she let him go, now, knowing he might not come back? Knowing that in searching for answers that didn't exist, in looking for reasons and forgiveness, her Anakin might never return?

Well, she wasn't going to let that happen.

Taking a deep breath, she gently squeezed his hand and tried to smile. "Alright." She sighed. "If you take Obi-wan with you, if you promise to be careful and come back, and if you absolutely swear you'll stay out of the podraces, I'll let you go."

Chuckling, Anakin nodded and pulled Padme close. The twins cradled between their parents, cooed in contentment at their emotions. "I promise and I swear. Unless of course, our ship breaks down or we get stranded or Obi-wan looses all our money in Sabacc. Under those conditions, if I'm forced to enter into a podrace, will you forgive me?"

Laughing, Padme rose to answer a knock at the door. Anakin watched her go with a heart not quite so light.

* * *

* * *

Obi-wan bowed to the former queen when the door swished open, the nodded to his friend. "I've been able to arrange for a three month trip, if it takes that long. We can take your shuttle, but not the _Star Rider_. And I've been given information of a few places we can stay."

"Great. When do we leave?"

The Jedi glanced over his shoulder, down the hall. "Let's get a good nights rest, then head out in the morning."

After the door closed, Padme turned to her husband and, even though she couldn't read his features, giggled at when she knew he was thinking. "I don't think Obi-wan going to get a lot of sleep tonight."

Skywalker shrugged, wishing, desperately, that he could take his wife in his arms and hold her light close. He would have to settle for his beautiful smile, for her laugh. "You don't have to worry. Sabé is more than capable of taking care of herself."

"It's not Sabé I'm worried about." His wife winked and Anakin made a decision.

"Come on. Leave the twins with Threepio." He grabbed her arm and headed for the door, so fast Padme was forced to run to catch up.

"Anakin, where are we going?"

"Come on, just in here." Anakin, his wife's hand held closely in his, walked up the ramp of the _Krayt Dragon_.

The Imperial shuttle looked so strange sitting quietly amidst the cobbled-together rebel ships. It almost seemed to be glaring at the other vessels, like it knew it didn't belong there and resented the presence of the others. Padme almost expected storm troopers to come pouring out of it and held back, but her husband's grip was firm.

She was inside the ship and heading down the dull, gray hallway before she time to even wonder what could be so important.

All that she seemed to think now was that Anakin was leaving her. Again.

Somewhere in the back of her thoughts, a plan was being laid. Padme grinned, knowing she was going to use everything at her disposal to see to it Anakin abandon her again. What did he think, that he could just drop her and run off again? That just because she had responsibilities among the rebels and two children to care for that she was unable to go running off around the galaxy with him? It wasn't like just because she gave birth Padme wasn't a warrior or no longer taking care of herself in a fire fight anymore.

Where do men _get_ these ideas?!

All this, of course, vanished from her mind when she stepped into what should have been the lounge and found the most hideous contraption Padme had ever seen.

It was, quite frankly, a giant metal egg, hollow in the inside, save for a chair and a control panel with view screen. Hanging from the top of this 'egg', this black birth chamber from which only monsters could emerge, were mechanical arms grasping tools, whose only purpose Padme could conceive of, would be to rip the skin off a being. Thus, the chair's only purpose would be to hold the withering, poor creature down while the hands did their work.

It couldn't possibly be for that purpose, Padme told herself. A part of her was furious at her for believing her inner fears, that her Anakin would have brought Padme here to die by such cruel means. But no other purpose came to mind, so when Anakin headed straight for the contraption, Padme held back, terrified.

"Don't be afraid." He told her, feeling her fear, shamed by it. "Padme, let me explain."

Gently, he squeezed her hand and waited till the terror subsided. He should have expected that. He should have known his angel would have been terrified, seeing his chamber for the first time. Hadn't Vader been shocked when his master had first introduced him to it? Had explained that here was the only place left in all the galaxy the Dark Lord would be free to breath outside the mask?

And what was this, but some larger mask, some greater monstrosity the Emperor had constructed? A cage for his pet, the chain that bound Vader to his master. For as long as Darth was reliant on the chamber, even redeemed, he would have to look to the technology of the Empire to survive.

The machines Anakin Skywalker had once brought to life now kept him alive as Darth Vader.

The bitter irony was not lost on him.

"Look here," he tired to sound soothing, not wanting to further scare his wife. How he loved her. She could be so strong, for her people, for her children, for the innocent. And here his queen was, terrified, staring at the chamber as though nothing so hideous had ever existed. "Padme, this is my oxygen chamber. This...this is where I remove the mask, where I can breath for a time on my own."

The fear faded somewhat and hopeful eyes of his angel stared up at him. "You can...in here?!"

"Yes...but..." How did he explain this to her. That he couldn't stand her touching him? Not here, not now. Not being what he was. There was so much he could not tell her just yet. So much he had to face on his own. He could not..._would not_ take her into that chamber and show his face to her.

If she thought the chamber repulsive and petrifying, what might she think of his face?

"This is the only place I can take off the mask, Padme. This is the only time I can see things through my own eyes. And even that time is limited." He turned away from her look, from that hope, stared at the chair in which he had sat, seeing things with his own eyes but never clearly. Not until the Emperor's whispers had been silenced, since the Dark curtain had fallen away. Maybe, if he didn't look at her, if he thought of something else...

"This is...this is all I have, Padme. I can't live outside this chamber without my mask. Do you understand? This is what...what I've been _reduced to_. This...this hollow shell of technology."

"Oh, Anakin!" Her arms were around his frame, her cheek crushed against armor.

He longed to feel the warmth of such a touch. But there was nothing. Nothing there. No feeling. And for as long as he knew, until he overcame his own repugnance at his appearance, there would never be.

"It's alright, Angel. But this is why I have to go. I need to find out why this happened, why I am the way I am. Yes, I want answers to why I did what I did, why I was chosen to fall. But also," and here, he reached down and, pulling her away from him, gently ran his gloved hand over her smooth cheek. Her eyes glittered in the lights from the chamber and she looked so beautiful, the repulsiveness of the chamber almost faded into the shadows.

Almost.

"But also, I need to know what the price was that I paid. I know I nearly lost my soul. I know that my body was destroyed. That I will have to live with _this_," he waved vaguely in the direction of the oxygen pod, "for the rest of my natural life. But what was gained? What did the galaxy achieve from my fall?"

Padme sighed into his hand, nestled close with her eyes closed. "I wish I had answers for you, my beloved. I wish you didn't have to leave."

"So do I, angel. So do I. But if all goes well, I shouldn't be gone too long. You won't even know I've been gone."

No, Padme thought to herself as, hand-in-hand, she and her husband left the shuttle. No, she wouldn't know he was gone.

Because she was going too.

* * *

"My Lady, I will be the first to admit this is the craziest, most dangerous, ridiculous plan I have ever heard of to force a husband to stay with his wife." Sabé grinned so wide her smile looked feral in the darkness of their shared room. "I'm all for it."

"I'm not," muttered Obi-wan from the corner, arms crossed and looking rather grumpy. Well, Padme admitted, she had sent Sabé to wake him at 3am ship-time, so what could she really have expected? He'd accepted her apology, somewhat ungraciously.

"And would the Jedi Master have a _better_ suggestion?" The handmaiden snapped at her friend.

Why she loved the infuriating man was beyond her. Force only knew why she didn't just dump their static relationship and date some cute rebel officer.

"Frankly, I think you should respect Anakin's request and just stay here. Padme, try and understand. This is hard for Anakin. He has to face everything he's done, and at the same time, try and understand just why it happened to him. And I wish I could help him, but none of the classes at the Temple covered how to aid your Jedi-turned-Sith-turned-Jedi or whatever he is, as he struggled for his redemption." The Jedi Master shook his head in slight bewilderment at the pair of women watching him. How could he possibly explain this to them? He wasn't trained for this sort of thing!

Kenobi desperately wished he'd just stayed in bed and never gotten mixed up in their plans.

"It's hard enough for Anakin to go back to Tatooine, to his past, without carrying around two women, a pair of Force sensitive babes, and two droids! I wouldn't even go if I didn't think he'd get himself into more trouble he can handle without me being there to 'nag him constantly' as he liked to put him."

Having concluded this speech, Obi-wan leaned back against the wall and waited for the wife of his best friend and his girlfriend (could he call Sabé that? Did that have any relevance to the situation at all?) to hear the wisdom in his words. Then they would nod, seeing how right he was about this and how it would just be best if they stayed behind.

After all, they weren't Jedi. They had children to care for. What were they doing, planning to go running off all over the galaxy?

Women just perplexed the hell out of Kenobi.

Obi-wan fully expected them to agree, quit their hasty packing of baby cloths, send the twins back to their beds and allow him to return to his.

Rather, what he got was a fury far worse than any sand storm on Tatooine, worse than being nearly drowned in the seas of Kamino, worse than the walls of the Temple crumbling down on his shoulders.

Quite frankly, Kenobi would rather have been facing Darth Maul again back on Naboo, one hand tied behind his back, blindfolded, deaf to the Force, than in that room as Padme's fury, quiet and deadly, rained down on him.

"This has been _hard_ on _Anakin_?! Hard on _him?!_ Hard on that pig-headed, inconsiderate, reckless husband of mine, who, if he had simply listened to me, to _you_, he would never have fallen in the first place, and then went off to live his dark, self-righteous dream, only to return, nearly broken and in need of comfort and reassurance?! It's been hard on _him_, Obi-wan Kenobi?!"

Obi-wan was now backing away, his hand frantically searching the wall beside him for the palm to open the door.

Padme didn't so much advance, didn't so much raise her voice as her whole presence had gone cold and deadly. It was a woman's fury, and Kenobi, the great Jedi General, was absolutely terrified. This was something he had never encountered before.

How in the galaxy was he supposed to defend himself against such an onslaught?!

"You think it's been hard on _him_!?" Padme asked again, hand on her hip as though she were searching for some sort of weapon. Thankfully, she had already packed her blaster.

"I, Obi-wan, _I_ spent a total of eight months after he left me _alone and pregnant_, running from one planet to another. Waiting, _waiting_ for the Empire to find me and Palpatine to kill me and corrupt my babies as he did my husband. And now, when I'm raising two Force sensitive children, when I myself am blind to the Force, with a husband who needs all the love I can give him, you're saying his life is so hard and he's been through so much that I should just _sit_ here and wait for him to return to me?!"

She hadn't meant to yell, but if she didn't, Padme feared she might give into the temptation to rip out the throat of her friend and protector.

He deserved it.

The anger drained away, the red cleared from her vision and Padme sighed, pushed a strand of dark hair that had come loose back over her ear. No wonder Jedi were careful about their emotions. She was sure if she hadn't been blind to the Force, at that very moment she would have fallen. Well, she felt better for venting. She had needed it, and she couldn't very well yell and scream at Anakin, could she?

Obi-wan, crammed up against the wall, still now like prey that realized his hunter had lost interest in him and he might survive if only he didn't move, watched as the former queen sighed and turned to her handmaiden.

"Sabé," she said with such a congenial sweetness in her voice it sounded as though she had just awakened to find all was right in the galaxy again. "Please help me finish packing. Then, we are going scrape Master Kenobi off the wall and send him back to his quarters for the remainder of the night. We can't have my husband getting suspicious, now can we?"

Her friend sent a pitying glance Obi-wan's way, then shook her head. "No, my Lady. We cannot."

Padme was going with her husband, whether he liked it or not.

And that, as far as the three of them, Obi-wan included, were concerned, was that.

* * *

Anakin realized that he should have expected something the instant Padme gave him a squeeze of her hand, whispered him a soft goodbye and left with the twins, not even staying to watch the ship take off.

But this is, after all, Anakin Skywalker we are talking about, preoccupied and worried about what he fears is coming.

And it's not like Obi-wan was about to tell him anything.

So, they packed the equipment they would need, mainly supplies for Obi-wan, as everything Skywalker would need was already on board. They radioed control for permission to lift off, strapped themselves in, and blasted out of the rebel cruiser.

"Should we make a few stops elsewhere first, so if there's any Imperials tracing us, they can't follow the signal back to the fleet?" Anakin asked, watching as their X-wing escort pulled away and they faced open space. His hands flew over the controls with ease. He was back in his element. "Obi-wan?"

"Sorry?" The Jedi Master looked up as if he'd been in deep thought.

"I asked if we should go directly to Tatooine or make a couple stops before, in case Imperials are tracking our signal?"

"Oh..." The older man looked anxious, and he fiddled with his crash webbing as though he was worried about something. What was going on? "I guess not. We've never done that before."

"You weren't flying in a stolen Imperial shuttle before, with a deflected high Imperial officer, who also happens to be a former Sith Lord, for whom the Emperor is no doubt looking for at this very moment, wondering just where I've gotten to. Obi-wan what in the galaxy is the matter with you?" Worried, Anakin's hand lingered on the hyperspace lever as he stared at his friend's strained face.

"Nothing, I'm quite fine, thank you. Anakin, would you please just head for Tatooine? The sooner we get there, the sooner we can get back."

His concentration was weakening. Kenobi had to keep focused long enough for the ship to be almost to Tatooine, or at least so far long in hyperspace, it would be too late to turn around.

If he didn't, Padme was going to kill him. He was sure of that.

"The sooner we get back? Obi-wan, what's going on? Have you been talking with Padme about my leaving?"

"Padme?" The Jedi Master blinked, hoping he looked calm and collected. "Who said anything about Padme? Anakin, can we please just go? We can talk about Padme later." Being a Jedi, Obi-wan had never been very good at lying.

And that's when Anakin knew what was going on, the realization dawning so quickly, he felt stupid for not having known in the first place.

His wife was somewhere on board the ship, with Sabé and the twins. And Obi-wan had been using the Force to conceal their presence from him.

"_PADME_!!"

The former Sith roared, rose from his chair and stormed for the door of the cockpit. His friend reached for him, tried to stop him, but he wasn't strong enough, and the furious man pulled away from him as though he was only a twig Skywalker had caught his cloak on.

"Anakin, wait! Calm down. She only wants to help you-"

"You," Anakin turned back around and pointed a finger in his friend's direction, the threat very clear in his Vader-like voice, "You, I will deal with later." Then he turned on his heel and marched down the ship's corridor in the direction of the lounge.

Sighing, Obi-wan gave up, dropped the shields he had wrapped around the queen and her children, and waited for the inevitable argument that would ensue.

They hadn't even left Rebel space yet.

Skywalker stormed down the corridor, now able to feel his wife and two children hiding, of all places, in the luggage compartment. How she had managed to get aboard, he didn't care. But that she had gone so far as to trick him into bringing her along,...well...he was touched. He was also furious, but touched nonetheless.

Grabbing the handle, he yanked the door open and glared at the small form of his wife, holding Leia, Sabé behind her clutching Luke, trying not to let her queen know she was afraid.

Padme obviously wasn't. She stood, her back straight as a rail and stared right back at her husband.

Leia cooed with happiness to see her father, despite his sudden moodiness.

"I," Padme said, "am coming."

"No, you're not." Anakin had control now, forced the anger down and quietly berated himself for such a silly reaction. "Padme, I love you, but you cannot come. I don't know what I'm going to find, what Darkness inside of me I may have to face. I don't want...can't have you see that side of me."

"You're a fool, Anakin Skywalker. You think I'd love you any less?"

Was that it? Was that what he was afraid of? "Damn it, Padme. You can't come! Think of the twins."

"I _am_ thinking of them. You're afraid I might turn you away, after seeing your 'Darkness'. Well, I'm afraid you'll turn _us_ away when you learn your answers. I know you, Anakin. And I'll admit, I am terrified of you being so...so ashamed of yourself, of what you've done, that you don't come back to us." She shifted little Leia in her arms, bent down and gently kissed her daughter's head. Quietly, but steel still in her words, said "How can I let you go on your own, to face whatever it is you need to face, when I know you like I do?"

Softened, Anakin sighed and reached out to brush his fingertips across his child's forehead. "You really are going to come with me, aren't you? No matter what I say otherwise."

Padme raised an eyebrow, her eyes daring him to stop her. Then, she raised her voice and called over her husband's shoulder, down the hall "Obi-wan, if you value your life, pull that lever!"

Sighing, resigning himself to a long trip, and wishing he'd never gotten involved with Skywalkers and the trouble that always seemed to follow, Obi-wan reached over and pulled down on the lever. The Imperial shuttle folded its wings and roared into hyperspace.

The coordinates were set for Tatooine.

* * *

They were on their way.

Reentering the cockpit, his smug wife following close behind, Anakin glared at his friend and fell into the pilot's seat. "I'll never forgive you for this, traitor." He said to Obi-wan.

The Jedi Master sighed. "I tried, Anakin. I most certainly tried. But if there is one thing I have learned about your wife in the time that I have known her, it is best not to argue with her. She sets her mind on something and there is nothing in this galaxy that can stop her. It's a wonder Palpatine has survived this long, what with him being the man who destroyed the Republic and all."

"She had lightening flying from her fingers, did she?"

"Oh, yeah."

There was a shuffling noise of metal feet behind Anakin, then a loud thud and the squeal of an insulted R2 unit. If things weren't bad enough already, Anakin realized he had even more unwanted company than expected.

"R2-D2! Why don't you watch where you're going?!" An angry retort from the smaller droid. "Mind your manners, R2! Mistress Padme, I don't understand at all what's going on. You said we were hiding to surprise Master Anakin! And then he is furious to see us, and we don't even say 'surprise' and now he's calling Master Kenobi a traitor, not for the first time I might add, and I have no idea where we are going in this stolen, _stolen_ Imperial shuttle, and why are we in an Imperial shuttle, I thought we were with the Rebellion now and...oh, dear, it's just all too much for my circuits."

Anakin didn't even bother to turn around and glare at his wife. All he said was "And you had to bring the droids."

* * *

Tatooine hadn't changed in the years Anakin had been away. But then, some things never do. Some things tend to linger, a constant reminder of mistakes and fears, of childhood betrayals and others that were not so innocent. A place that is like a blemish, residing only for the purpose of reminding you that no matter how far you run, no matter how you change or grow or triumph, there are still that dark stain on your soul.

That was Tatooine for Anakin.

Stepping down off the ramp, his black boot crushing the hot sand under his heel, Anakin thought he could almost breath in the depression that threatened just over that golden horizon. There were so many memories, and not enough sand to bury them.

His early years as a slave, coming home to his mother smiling sadly through her tears. Had she know? Had she known her son, born by some desert miracle, was destined for greater things than this dust ball of a planet?

Born for darker things that to live out his life under those two bright suns?

If she had, Shmi had never spoken of it. She could have been a prophet, a child of the Force herself, bound to silence, so as to raise the Chosen One as her son, and never would she have told him of his true destiny.

Or maybe, she had just not been willing to look into his eyes as she kissed him goodnight, and see the monster lurking just beneath the surface.

Padme, her small frame beside him, shaded from the hot light by his shadow, was looking down at her own son...their son, Luke. The baby boy, six months old, squirmed in his mother's arms, wanting to be put down.

He would be crawling soon, Anakin thought, smiling.

Had his own first steps been on this hot, demanding sand?

"Come." He took his wife's hand in his, making sure to keep himself between her and the sun. "The farm is just over the side of that dune, and the ship will be safe enough here." He paused, Luke meeting his glance.

What would he find, when he stepped over that rise? How long had it been, since that last day under these twin suns? A part of him worried he farm would be empty, the graves lost to the winds. At the same time he hope not, he prayed it would be.

"I'm coming." His wife told him determinedly, as though she had sensed his hesitation.

Anakin wished he could kiss her. Wished he could lean down and brush their lips together, and whisper, "I know, beloved." Some things don't change, but so many do, it would seem.

They walked, almost like a death procession, toward the farm. Anakin came first, Padme by his side. He was a tall, dark machine with a tiny, frail woman by his side, a child clutched in her arms. After them came Obi-wan, his brown hood pulled over his aging face, an arm wrapped around the waist of the young woman who marched so resolutely beside him. Sabé, as had Padme, had dressed in loose flowing green robes and desert boots. In her arms, Leia watched wide-eyed as this dry land passed around her.

The droids came last. Artoo rolled along solemnly and Threepio followed. He didn't complain about sand in his joints, or the suns melting his outer casing. In fact, he didn't utter a single word, complaint or otherwise. Even the droids were aware of the mood.

It was in this line, with the mythical reincarnation of Death leading the way and a tarnished, silent sun god bringing up the rear, that Beru first saw the group come down the dune. Shading her eyes from the sun, she peered at the procession, then gave a small cry and shouted for her husband.

By the time Anakin, clutching Padme's hand in a death grip, had reached the flat basin on which the far rested, Owen Lars, his step-brother, was there to meet him.

They stood about a pace apart, the suns perched over them as witness.

Anakin licked dry lips, looking for some sort of greeting, some sort of apology or kind word. He wanted to say something to this man who stood before him, who had known and loved Shmi, but he didn't know what. He had never done Owen or his family any harm. He had buried his mother and left.

He had been apologizing to everyone for so long, that seemed the only sort of greeting he knew of any longer.

What was there to say?

"Brother."

Owen's whole body tensed. His face, already red from working in the heat of the day, turned an even darker shade of red. His hands clenched at his side and trembled. "Don't call me that."

Anakin's own body tensed in response. Padme glanced fearfully at her husband then back at her brother-in-law, then Beru had a hold of her hand and was pulling her back to where Sabé and Obi-wan stood. Everyone could feel the tension warp the heat of the air as they breathed it in.

"What else should I call you?" Anakin asked, trying to keep his voice calm. "That's what you are, my step brother."

"No, no you're not." Owen pointed a shaking finger in accusation, tears, whether from the brightness of the sun or some unwanted emotion, glittered in the corner of his eyes. "The Jedi told me. He told me about what you've become. How you've shamed your mother's memory. I didn't want to believe it, didn't want to accept the reason why we had to take the child in was because of what you have become. But now...now I can see it for myself."

He took a hesitant step forward, his voice shaking with anger. "I loved Shmi, and it was because of her I accepted Anakin as my brother! But you are not Anakin! And I will have nothing, nothing to do with Darth Vader. Raze my farm to the ground, or give us the child and leave!"

"Owen," Anakin tired, trying to be as non-threatening as possible. "I've changed. I. . . please, I just want to see my mother's grave. I just want to. . . to apologize. . . "

"Oh, Anakin – " Beru stepped forward to hug the former Sith, but her husband intervened before she could take more than a step, a look of horror on his red face. "Owen, let me go. It's Anakin!"

Her husband ignored her. "Apologize? All this time passes, and you think you can just come back and apologize?! How dare you even show your face here, you madman!! Monster!!"

"That's enough!"

Owen choked, sputtered, fell silent. Letting go of Sabé, who had until now clung to him, Obi-wan stepped between the two brothers and gazed steadily at the elder.

"Control yourself, Lars. Anakin has in fact returned from the Darkside. I will vouch for him. He is here to see his mother's grave and to offer what apologize he can. It is not your place to say otherwise." Kenobi's voice was calm, but there was steel behind his words.

"This...this machine," Owen spat, glaring over the Jedi's shoulder, "is not welcome here. This is my property! Let him tarnish Shmi's memory elsewhere, but not here! Not at her grave where she and my father rest in peace."

Obi-wan felt his anger rise, something that did not happen often. He wanted to smite this angry little man, and the feeling was strange, but wonderful at the same time. He had to squash the impulse that he guessed had come from wanted to protect his friends.

"Be calm, Owen." He said, laying a hand on the farmer's shoulders, but the man stepped away in a hurry.

"None of your Jedi tricks, Kenobi. I never put much stock in the Jedi, but it sickens me to know you've chosen this twisted scrap of metal and decaying human flesh over the innocent souls of those two children." He turned a desperate, angry eye on Padme. She thought to herself, he had the look of a man who feared his entire world was now collapsing; evil was closing in, because he did not understand what had transpired and been so easily accepted by the four standing before him. "And you, my Lady?"

Owen made to step towards Padme, wanting to look in her eyes. Wanting to ask if she thought this man truly to be Shmi's son returned, or some vile trick. But he did not even manage a step, before a blue and silver lightsaber came within inches of his face.

Owen forze and met the eyes of an angered Obi-wan Kenobi.

"You will apologize to both the Lady and to Jedi Skywalker." Obi-wan said calmly, the saber casting a ghostly light across his features. "Then you will step aside and allow your brother to see his mother's grave."

He didn't use the Force, but Owen balked nonetheless, and at last, fear and anger still burning in his troubled eyes, stepped aside and let them pass.

The minute her husband was silenced, Beru grabbed the Ladies' arms and pulled them toward the farmhouse. "Come, my dears," she said quietly, glancing over her shoulder. "Let's get you and those babes out of this heat." Then, loud enough for the men to hear as well, she said, "Owen means well, really he does. He was just trying to protect us, in his own way. That's all. Don't let it trouble you."

When the women were finally to the stairs, Owen cast Anakin one last look, one that clearly showed the pain he now suffered from having failed as protector, then turned and followed his wife.

Obi-wan and Anakin silently watched him go.

"That man is infuriating." Obi-wan muttered, clipping his lightsaber back to his belt. He started off toward the other side of the farm when a voice reached him.

"You shouldn't have intervened."

"What?!" Obi-wan stopped, turned to find Anakin still watching his stepbrother descend the stairs. It was the first time since his return that Anakin had not been grateful for Obi-wan's protection or kindness.

"Owen had every right to say what he did, and every right to try and protect his family. He saw me as a threat and acted. None of what he said was in spite. People are going to react like that around me, Obi-wan, and you can't always tell them that they should simply forgive me."

Caught off balance by this sudden insight from Anakin, Kenobi didn't quite know how to respond.

"But Anakin, he – "

"Yes, yes I know what he said." Anakin replied, somewhat stiffly. Some of the names Owen had called him had a cut a little deep. But pain lets you know you're alive, and it opened Skywalker's eyes a little more. This would be how people would react, how they would see him.

And he hasn't going to walk around with his head lowered in shame any more. Because they were right, and he would have to accept that. He couldn't change their minds, but he could take action and show them some of their fears no longer proved true.

Skywalker smiled slightly at this new insight.

"Come on, Obi-wan." He started walking again, passed his friend by as he headed for the graves on the far side of the compound. "My mom's waiting."

* * *

More soon! :D Caslia


	15. The Return Home: Chapter 3

Continuation of Chapter Three:

The Return Home

* * *

Six months after Rebirth of the Light. . .

* * *

Anakin asked Obi-wan to wait, and his friend, nodding in understanding, waited a few paces back as Anakin, hesitantly, walked to the graves.

Where they had gotten the stones to use as markers, Anakin didn't know. Stone was almost as rare on Tatooine as water. Even the stones in the canyons was a red brick which would have already been eaten away by the wind. Nonetheless, all of the graves, his mothers, her husbands, and former Lars who had lived and died, working their fingers to the bone on this desolate farm, had been laid to rest here, their graves marked by stones.

He had knelt here some five years ago. Then, Anakin had been young, had been whole, in body if not in spirit. He had knelt, dressed in the robes of a Jedi, a lightsaber clipped to his belt and blood already staining his hands.

So young, to have been so angry.

Anakin sighed, and slowly, lowered his ruined, tired body so that once again, he knelt before the grave of his mother.

There wasn't the sound of weeping now. No tears to run hot down his cheeks. No wind whipping his cloak about. No sound of crunching sand as the others retreated from the graves and death and the loss of a loved one.

Nothing now, but Anakin Skywalker, kneeling before his mother's name, carved in stone.

"I would have thought," he started brokenly, his fingertips brushing the sand. "I would have thought the next time I would be here, if ever, it would be to tell you…tell you how proud I had made you. To tell you I was the greatest Jedi ever now, and of all the great deeds I had done."

That's what he had said to her then, hadn't it? That he would make her proud? That he would be everything she had ever wanted in a son? Despite the heat of the day, Anakin shivered inside his suit.

"Well, mom," he whispered, clutching the sand, "let me tell you what I've done."

And there he knelt, hands buried in the sand, as if he could reach her through Death, and whispered in broken, tearful words, of the things he had done since her death. He told her of his marrying the most beautiful woman in the whole galaxy, but how he had betrayed her for power. He told her of his beloved master, whom he had fought with, and beside, and cherished, only to destroy everything they had both fought to protect.

Anakin knelt, telling his mother of the sins he had knowingly committed in the name of the Emperor, and what part he had played in bringing down the Republic of which she had once spoken so highly of. He told her of the destructions of worlds, the lost lives of Jedi. He described in no uncertain terms his slow corruption, of how he had savored the feel of the Darkness seeping into his soul.

And then he spoke of how, in the darkest, most uncertain moment of his life, when he had thought himself going mad from grief and regret, the voices had come to him.

"They whispered to me. They spoke to me till I thought I would go mad." They had led him, he said, to the life he had thought lost forever. And then, finally allowing the tears to fall, he told Shmi of the beautiful grandchildren she had, but would never be able to hold.

"Luke," he told her, "has golden hair and the bluest eyes. They're like ice, but so warm, so understanding, so filled with the compassion, I sometimes wonder how in the galaxy they could be my eyes as well. He is so kind, Mom. Even for one so young. I just know, one day, he'll be a good Jedi."

And Leia. Oh, his precious little Leia. She had been the one to really save him. Though Anakin had sworn to himself he would be careful never to show more favor for one twin then the other, there was no doubt it had been his daughter who had brought him back from the Darkside.

"And his sister, Leia. She's got her mother's intelligence and leadership. But she reminds me sometimes so much of you, Mom." There had been a single holo in their slave quarters. The memory was faded, but Anakin remembered, through a child's eyes, of staring for long hours at the holo.

It had been of his mother's family, when she was only fourteen or so. She had been a slave as a child as well. But she smiled beautifully, with such compassion in her eyes. Her father stood behind her, Anakin's grandfather. He was a tall, strong man, with a well-trimmed beard and dark coloring. His hands were worn from hours of hard labor, but his eyes were kind.

Beside her husband, Anakin's grandmother, a worn and tired, thin woman, leaned against her eldest son for support. Shmi's brothers, three all total, and all older than her, grinned mischievously for the camera.

Whatever had become of any of them, save his mother, Anakin never knew.

But the fact remained, Leai looked like her grandmother, when Shmi had been younger. The similarities brought tears to Anakin's eyes now and he smiled sadly.

"You should have gotten the chance to know them, Mom. They were children you could be proud of. Not like me."

The gravestone, with his mother's name carved so carefully into the rough granite, stared back at him. Silent.

He wanted to believe she would forgive him. Wanted to believe Shmi would still love her son, despite what he had become, despite how he had failed her. If nothing else, Shmi's disappointment in her beloved Ani could destroy him.

But there wasn't an answer, either from the wind or from the stone.

Anakin admitted he shouldn't have been expecting one.

Gently dropping the sand he had been clutching so tightly in his hands, Anakin rose from the grave and sighed. What more could he say? What more could he do for her, now that he had failed his mother so completely?

"I'm sorry, Mom. And I love you. I should have told you that before you died. I'm sorry I didn't."

And there was one of his worst mistakes of all.

Climbing to his feet, Anakin turned from the grave. He brushed past Obi- wan, who had been thinking his own quiet thoughts of a lost parent, and walked as fast as he could for the garage where he had spent the rest of the day of his mother's death.

Obi-wan glanced once at the gravestones, then followed his friend.

The Jedi Master found Anakin digging around in a toolbox, a broken droid lying at his feet. The garage was a clean, well swept storage house. Obviously Beru's touch reached every part of this farm.

At the sight of the droid, Obi-wan raised a questioning eyebrow.

Anakin, aware of his friend's presence from the moment he'd walked in the door, sighed. "I know what you're thinking, Obi-wan. And no, I didn't destroy the droid. I came here to think, and I think best when my hands are busy. Besides," now he smiled, straightened up with a tool in his hands, "it's the least I can do after the kindness the Lars would have shown by taking in Luke."

Obi-wan winced, remembering how sad Anakin had been when Kenobi had explained, on their way to Tatooine, that the original plan had been to separate the twins after their birth. Luke would have come here, to the Lars, and live his childhood, and probably his teenage years, as a moisture farmer.

"I don't think you need to do anything for them." Obi-wan said softly, pulling up a seat by the door.

Anakin looked at his questioningly.

Kenobi shrugged. "Owen and Beru agreed to take in Luke as a kind of thank you for what you did for them all those years ago. No one else could have, much less would have, gone after Shmi when she was taken by the Tuskens. But you did. You went after her and brought her body back, so they could have a funeral and say the proper goodbyes."

Behind the mask, Anakin blanched. The Sand People. To think he had nearly forgotten about that.

Obi-wan, unaware of his friend's reaction, rested elbows on knees and tried to smile warmly. "You want to talk about it? About your mother?"

Anakin was silent, his hands playing with a few of the buttons on the little droid. Did he want to talk about Mom? Obi-wan had offered, once before. It was after the battle at Geonosis, when Padme had told him Shmi was dead. He had been sympathetic, knowing how it felt to have lost your parent. But Anakin had refused to speak of it. For a number of reasons.

The first had been his ever quickening slide toward the Darkside. He had felt distant from Obi-wan, angry at him. If Kenobi hadn't held back his training, Anakin would have been powerful enough to save his mother. At least, that's how he'd seen it at the time.

He hadn't wanted to say anything about her actual death either. Because Obi- wan would see in his eyes that something terrible had happened. Something…Dark.

And as sympathetic as Obi-wan would have been about Shmi's death, he wouldn't really understand all that much. True, Qui-gon had been like a father to Obi-wan. Had loved him, trained him. But Obi-wan had never known his own mother. There was no way in the galaxy he could understand the loss of the only person who would ever love any child unconditionally.

It was something Anakin had pitied Obi-wan, all the Jedi for not having known. And something he sometimes wished he's never known either.

But now, he realized, he should have talked about it. Should have told his master how he felt. Maybe Kenobi would have understood the faltering padawan better. Maybe it would have been one last burden, one last failure that rode on young Skywalker's shoulders.

Sighing, Anakin lowered the droid. "I told her I was sorry. For everything. And how I wished . . .I wished I could go back. Wished I could change it. But I can't, can I? I can't go back, I can't change it and I can't save her." And here he paused, considering. "And maybe …maybe I wasn't meant to."

The droid stared blankly up at him, a vacant look with no life to it. He would fix the droid, he could bring the life back into its eyes. But he couldn't do that for his mom. Or for anyone else, for that matter.

"Obi-wan…what good am I, if I always fail when it matters most? I couldn't even save her, much less bring Balance."

"Anakin…" Obi-wan shifted, feeling somewhat uncomfortable. He wanted to say the right thing, wanted to make his friend feel better. But there didn't seem to be anything to say. Not here and now, to this calm and quiet Anakin that was so far from the angry youth he had known. "You haven't failed anyone." He finished lamely.

It was so close to being a lie, Kenobi nearly choked when the words escaped his lips.

Skywalker didn't seem to care. He took a little comfort in his master's words and smiled. But that soon faded and he was thinking again. Of his mother and her beautiful smile, so unlike his own forced one.

"She…she had such pride in me, Obi-wan. Always told me one day...one day I would change the galaxy. Would be the hero of some grand epic. Well, here I am." He chuckled and shook his head, a little self-deprecatory smile on his face "I'm far from being the hero. But I have changed the galaxy. Only for the worst." His smiled turned bitter then, and his sarcasm biting. "How proud she would have been, if my mom could see me now."

Obi-wan looked at his friend, feeling the bitterness sting the air, and he frowned. He, too, had once wondered about whether or not Qui-gon was still proud of him. He had done his best, to train the boy his master had given him. Had loved the child, though he was a failure at showing it. And yes, his mistakes, coupled with those of Anakin's, had led to the fall of the Chosen One, and the destruction of the Jedi.

But Obi-wan, despite not having known his own, could not imagine any mother not having pride in a son as wonderful as Anakin Skywalker.

"Yes," he said quietly at first, then to Anakin, a smile beginning to spread across his bearded features, "yes, how proud she would be of you! Don't you see, Anakin? You came back. You didn't have too, but you did. You were here when Padme and I needed you the most. You proved all our fears wrong…'Once you start down the Dark path…' But you were better than that. I think your mother would have been very proud of you, Anakin." Kenobi smiled, trying to look casual. "Like I am."

Anakin heard to words, and the love behind them. They wrapped a warm blanket around his shoulders and the bitterness lessened. But the look of pride in his old master's eyes made him turn his face away in shame.

"You wouldn't say that," he replied softly, "if you knew what I did when she died."

Dropping the droid on a pile of scrap metal, Anakin turned away to replace the tool. Watching him, Obi-wan's smile held…faltered…died.

"Anakin, what do you mean?"

The former Jedi sighed. Ironic, he thought, that this was the same garage in which he had stood with Padme when he had first confessed this sin. The only other person he had ever told had been the Emperor.

Obi-wan, his dearest friend and master, had never guessed, never known.

There wasn't anything for it now. Anakin knew he had come here with the intention of finding out why he had fallen. But to know why, you had to go back to the beginning, find the roots of the evil seed that had sprouted in his heart so long ago.

"Go ask Beru if we might borrow her landspeeder for a few hours."

* * *

The Jundland Wastes, on the edge of the Dune Sea, stretch for miles in every direction. This vast no-man's land is home to many of the dangers of Tatooine.

As a boy, Anakin had been told endless stories about staying away from the Wastes. There roamed the Krayt Dragons, desert vipers, and womp rats so vicious, they could tear a being apart in under ten seconds. Alive.

It was the place, people said, that you would go if you had a death wish. Only the brave, the desperate or the insane wanders these wastes, save for the natural inhabitants of Tatooine. Every planet has a place no tourist or local alike should ever venture. Coruscant has the lower levels and the smuggler dens. Hoth had the frozen, desolate ice fields.

Tatooine had the Jundland Wastes.

Anakin and Obi-wan now stood in the southern edge of the Wastes, where the rocks rise into the sky like great spirals of dry decay. But where the dunes rise and fall, constantly shifting, these great canyons stay firm and the ground beneath them is flat and level. A camp might think itself safe among the wastes, with the towers on all sides, and the landscape visible for miles.

There was nothing here. No sign of life, no marker. Nothing to imprint the place in memory.

But Anakin knew it nonetheless.

He stood there for a long time, staring at the sand shifting at his feet. Wondering, if the sand blew hard enough, if might some bone remains appear. Perhaps scraps of what had once been robes. But that wasn't to be. Any flesh left, even bones, the desert creatures would have devoured long ago. Any scraps left would have been picked up by other nomads and used as best they could.

The place was filled with nothing but hollow echoes.

"Anakin?" Obi-wan laid a hand on his shoulder, looking worried. "What is it? What is this place?"

Sighing, the former Jedi turned to his friend, such sadness upon his face, it nearly took Kenobi's breath away.

"This is where it started, Obi-wan. This is where I took my first step into the shadowed Darkness." He scuffed his boot in the sand, wondering where he should begin. How to explain everything that had been going through his mind then. Everything he had felt and seen. Had done.

"I tracked them here. After they had kidnapped Shmi. I tracked them using the Force, using what I knew of the planet. I asked everyone I passed, and everyone said this is where they would come. So, 

here I came too. To rescue me mom. Or, to take back whatever was left of her." He paused, took a shaky breath, blew it out.

Obi-wan waited, listening.

Force! Anakin thought. He has complete faith in me. He stands here, waiting to hear what happened, waiting to comfort me when I tell him how my mother died. Obi-wan trusts me so completely, there isn't the slightest notion in his mind about what I did here. How could I have once believed he didn't trust me at all?

Skywalker forced himself to keep going, forced himself to remember. "It was night when I finally caught up with them. Their campfires burned brightly in the night, brighter than all the stars."

"I crept down from the canyon walls, into their camp. The guards slept. Why not? They were safe here, among the Wastes. They didn't see my in the shadows. I snuck into one of the huts, where I could feel the presence of my mother. I found her. . .Obi-wan, I found her bound, and bleeding. I. . . I cut her bonds, held her in my arms. Force, she was so weak!"

Anakin's breath rattled in his chest, and he was dangerously close to having his air cut off. His suit was not made to handle the irregular breathing patterns of a man in an emotion state. Skywalker struggled to get himself under control.

"She. . . she was dying, there in my arms. There was nothing I could do to help her. Nothing I could do to save her."

"Oh, Anakin. Oh, Ani!" Obi-wan reached out, meant to comfort, meant to soothe, however he could, but Anakin stepped away, shaking his head vigorously.

"No, no you don't understand! She. . . said how grown up I looked. How. . . how proud she was of me. And she kept trying to tell me how much she loved me. But all I did was try and say everything would be fine. I didn't say how much I loved her or needed her. I. . . I watched her slip away from me. And then she was gone." Gone, gone, gone.

Obi-wan closed his eyes, feeling his friend's pain, so sharp it might as well have been his own. But he didn't reach out. Not yet. Anakin didn't want it just yet.

"And that's when I slipped. That's when I let go. One minute I was holding my mom and crying. . .the next, there was this great. . .rage inside me." Obi-wan looked up, startled. Anakin was clenching his fists, staring out at the Wastes as though to keep himself in check, to hold the memories in the past.

"I slew them, Obi-wan. Every single one of them. First, the men who attacked me. All the warriors, even the elderly, came and raised their gaderffii sticks against me, and I took their heads, one by one. The women too. Did you know, Tusken women can be warriors too? They stood their ground to protect their children and each one fell under my blade. I burned their huts to the ground."

"Oh, Force. . ." Obi-wan couldn't believe what he was hearing. Didn't want to hear it. Didn't want to know. He stood, staring wide-eyed at the man before him.

Yes, he had known Vader had done things. Terrible, vile things. Some to innocents, some to Jedi. Some Obi-wan had even witnessed himself. But there had always been that small comfort of knowing this was Vader. That Anakin, his beloved, kind apprentice, was either dead or locked away inside the monster.

And here was Skywalker, confessing to a sin he had committed as a Jedi. In vengeance, in anger, and in grief.

"Their huts burned, their dogs died. I was standing over the body of the last woman when I looked up and saw them. The children. They were running across the basin toward the canyons. Little dark shadows moving in the night." Anakin shuddered, lost in the past. "Silent as the two moons that watched overhead, I gave chase. They were like pebbles falling into an ocean. Their deaths didn't even make a ripple in the Force. I returned to the village – "

"Force, Anakin!! Stop it!!"

Skywalker awoke from his dream, the darkness of the night falling away to reveal the brightness of the day, and Obi-wan, his back turned, looking sick and old.

"Obi-wan. . . I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so lost in the past. I. . . " He closed his mouth, silenced his treacherous tongue. Kenobi hadn't needed to know all of that. He hadn't meant to make his friend relive the memory with him.

But there it was. His first step toward Darkness.

"Force, Anakin." Obi-wan said again, not turning back around. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Guiltily, Skywalker shrugged, looked away. "You would have told the Council. I would have been removed from the Order. And. . . and at the time. . . I thought what I had done was right, in a way. Not the killing. That was wrong. And Force, did I hate myself for that. But I wanted vengeance! Vengeance for my mother!!"

"Vengeance?!" Obi-wan snarled, turned to the former Sith, his paler gone, replaced by anger. "You think Shmi would have wanted that?!"

"No! Of course not! Obi-wan, I was slipping! I gave in and it was my own fault. I. . . I realize that now. And I have no excuse for what I did. I'm sorry."

Obi-wan forced his anger to cool. He looked at Anakin, as he was now, shamed and afraid. Afraid Obi-wan would take back his words of friendship and pride. Afraid of seeing the disappointment in his old master's eyes.

"Yes. . . " Obi-wan finally nodded, letting the wind carry away his anger. "Yes, I know you are, Anakin."

They didn't speak much on the way back to the farm. Anakin sat wondering at how easily he had lost his way, had stumbled headlong into Darkness. He wondered about the children who had died that day, about how some had stood and fought him, though they knew their lives were already forfeit.

He wondered...no, he knew their own mothers would have been very proud of them. As would their fathers.

Obi-wan didn't wonder anything. He sat and stared out at the desert wastes that passed them by.

* * *

Caslia


	16. The Return Home: Chapter 4

More. . .

* * *

Chapter Three:

The Return Home

Six months after Rebirth of the Light. . .

* * *

They stayed only a few more hours on Tatooine. Anakin was ready to be away from the planet. He had found what he had come here for. But he delayed so Beru could spend more time with her nephew and niece. It seemed the least he could do.

Owen had disappeared after his and Obi-wan's return from the Jundland Wastes. Skywalker wasn't sure if he was off on some distant corner of the farm, or Beru had simply taken the incentive and locked her husband in the garage. Either way, his step-brother was no where to be seen, and Anakin breathed a little easier because of it.

"I should be grateful for everyone in my family." He relented, after apologizing to Beru for the argument he had started with Owen.

She waved his comment away. "Never you mind. The man doesn't like or understand change. You've changed, and certainly for the better. If he's not willing to accept that, it's his loss, not yours. Don't let it bother you."

"But he's still my brother. I don't want this to be an old wound between us, one that festers."

"What more can you do?" She asked him, her young eyes old, worn down by the life in the desert. "You can't change his mind for him. You can't do anything to improve him or his life. You can't make it rain or stop the sand from blowing. Owen is a hard man."

And that was all that could be said on the matter. So he let it go, knowing he would eventually have to accept that though Tatooine was his homeplanet, and his mother was buried on this farm, he would never be wanted or needed here. He was no longer a little slave boy with gifts, but a Jedi with a destiny greater than a moisture farmer.

But it was difficult nonetheless.

Eventually, it was time to leave. Beru hugged the twins close, tears glistening in her eyes. So far she and Owen had been unable to have any children of their own. Anakin hoped they might, one day. He would like Luke and Leia to have some little cousins. He would have to ask Padme what had become of her own family, though he feared the answer.

His sister-in-law gifted them each with a hug, which in itself was generous. She gave one to her sister-in-law, and the handmaiden she had never met but loved for the care Sabé gave the twins. She gave one to the Jedi Knight, who had come once before to their home to beg sanctuary for one of Skywalker's unborn children. Kenobi felt awkward about the gesture, but smiled anyway. She has a good soul, he told Anakin later.

And she gave one to her brother-in-law, Darth Vader. If Beru hesitated, it was only in her thoughts where he could not detect it. She was a strong woman, taller than his Padme, and he didn't have to bend very far down to her. Beru gave him a little squeeze, then pulled away.

Anakin felt blessed by her kindness.

He had meant to go and tell his mother goodbye one last time, not knowing when, or if ever, he might return to Tatooine. But when he climbed up the steps of the homestead, he saw someone else kneeling before Shmi's grave.

It was Padme, her beautiful hair loose and blowing in the wind. He couldn't see her face, but Anakin knew she was speaking softly and he wondered what she had to say to a woman she had known only briefly, some sixteen years ago.

When his wife stood, she turned and walked toward him, a gentle smile gracing her face. He wanted to smile back, but knew it would have been in vain. Padme took his hand and they walked to where the others were waiting, the twins securely in the arms of their guardians.

"I was telling her thank you," Padme said, not waiting for him to ask. "Thank you, for giving me you. And how happy I am."

Her husband smiled, touched by this angel.

Beru stood by the stairs, at first waving as they began the short trek to their ship, then lowered her hand and simply watched them. He didn't know if he would ever come back here, if he ever wanted to. And yet, there was more here now than there had been when he had left in anger all those years ago. Now there was Beru and her unconditional kindness, a dark silhouette against golden sand, the sun at her back.

She reminded him of his mother.

They were at the ship, the ramp lowered the Sabé already boarding with the children when Anakin looked back over the dunes, in the direction of the homestead, and saw a lone figure watching them.

There was a strange and bittersweet moment when he wondered, almost hoped it was the dark figure of Darth Maul. And in so many ways, for many different reasons, he wanted it to be. But it wasn't, and he let the dream go.

It was someone just important, he realized. Just as family was important. In the end, that was what it came down to.

As the others boarded, Anakin raised a hand in acknowledgement. Farewell. Something, perhaps, less well defined but just as true.

In the distance, Owen raised his hand in reply, then turned and walked away.

* * *

The trip to Naboo wasn't all that long. Padme's homeplanet was only a few hours from his own. In some strange way, Anakin had found comfort in that during his long years of Jedi training. He liked to think he and Padme had always been close, had grown up in neighboring systems. And now even though he was on Coruscate, his mother his mother wasn't completely alone.

Padme and Naboo weren't all that far away.

Smiling at the child's thought that had given him comfort in his first years as padawan, Anakin rose from his place of meditation and wandered to the lounge where he knew Padme was fixing something for the others to eat.

Obi-wan, he knew, was in the cockpit, keeping an eye on things. Sabé was in the back, bedding down the twins for their afternoon nap. Anakin was grateful of the present lack of company.

He wanted to talk to Padme alone.

She was standing in front of the little makeshift kitchen the Star Rider provided for its inhabitance. There wasn't all that much room on board, and the ship hadn't been designed to fly a large family around the galaxy. But they did rather well despite the fact. The kitchen, though small, contained enough to provide for the others, and Padme seemed to be finding enough to suit her needs.

Seeing her standing there, her back turned to him and her slim figure swaying to some music only she could hear, Anakin longed to walk up behind her and wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her close, then reach down and brush her neck with butterfly kisses.

The thoughts made his grief-ridden, then furious, then shamed and left Anakin feeling uncomfortable and wishing he hadn't come.

"Anakin."

There was no hope for it now. Padme had turned and, smiling, beckoned him to her side.

"Here," she handed him a knife and a familiar looking dried fruit. "Beru offered me some of these. She said they were good for women who had recently given birth. Helped keep the system on track. I'm supposed to peel off the skin, chop the rest up and boil it to make tea."

Anakin didn't say anything, just nodded and chopped the dried fruit.

"I very much like your sister-in-law, Anakin." Padme watched him, enjoying his presence, but wondering at his silence. "I haven't known her long, but she's so kind. I can't imagine why Beru would have married a man like Owen Lars."

"Owen is a good man," he remarked, reaching for another peeled fruit. "I'm sure he has good qualities we aren't aware of. I remember him when he was younger, the first time we met. He was polite, but withdrawn." Skywalker shrugged. "I'm sure he felt justified in what he said to me yesterday. After all, I wasn't all that warm and welcoming when I learned I had a step brother."

They peeled and chopped in silence for a while, having established a rhythm together. Padme and Anakin had discovered in their marriage they worked well together, when both were at ease. There was a bond, an instinctive understanding between them.

It wasn't unusual one knew when the other wanted or needed to talk.

"Anakin? What is it?"

He had never been one who was good at being able to explain what he was thinking or feeling. Anakin was a moment speaking, trying to arrange things so they might make sense to her.

"Naboo...You know, when I left for Tatooine, I knew I would have face my past, and hopefully, at the same time, maybe why things happened as they did. Why I turned. But Naboo is a different place, with different types of betrayal, of loss. Of mistakes."

A fruit half peeled in her hands, Padme froze, then glanced up at Anakin, her eyes shadowed.

Her husband's mask didn't give anything away, and she wasn't a Jedi who could read minds. Padme found herself surprisingly calm, her voice, steady, asking: "Mistakes? Such as our marriage?"

If she had meant to shock Anakin out of his insipid demeanor, she succeeded.

The former Sith jerked back, the shock radiating off him. The knife nearly dropped from his suddenly lax fingers, but at the last moment he regained control. Through plastic glass, he stared at his angel.

Anakin could not decide which was the strongest emotion that now gripped him. Hurt? Anger? Fear? Grief? Or maybe just pure surprise?

He swallowed, breathed deep. Padme continued to stare at him, unflinching. Waiting for him to either deny or agree. What could he say? Yes, it had been a mistake? Just one more step towards his eventually corruptions, just one more time he defined the rules of a proper Jedi?

True, all true.

"No," he said at last, lying down the knife and reaching to caress her hand. The look in her eyes, expectant, waiting, did not change. "No, I have no regrets concerning our marriage, save the pain it brought you. I wish I could take that back, steal it from you so you might never have known the hurt. But, no, for nothing in all the galaxy would I ever say our union was a mistake."

Padme blinked, and with that, there were tears, and she moved around so he could wrap her in his arms and hold her against his body, such as it was, and gain what comfort they could in the gesture.

"I love you, Padme. I know I've given you enough cause to doubt that, and for that I am sorry."

She was smiling now, finding contentment beyond the grief, and sighed softly. "Do me a favor, Ani."

"Anything."

"Stop telling me how sorry you are and just hold me."

So that's what he did. She seemed so fragile at time, so easy to break. But he knew that wasn't true, knew he only thought that because of how desperately he felt the need to protect her. Her and their family.

When Padme pushed gently away and turned back to her cutting, Anakin didn't hesitate in wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. It was all he could due to show his affection, but it was enough.

He waited until the rhythm was back in place, then spoke.

"Padme. . . about Naboo."

"Yes?"

"What, exactly, are we going to find when we get there. I mean," under her gaze, he nearly blanched. "What's left of it? I know what Palpatine's plans for Naboo were. Mainly just to raze it to the ground, kill off the entire population. Basically, it was his intent to erase Naboo from the galaxy. I don't want. . . I don't want our going there for my sake to hurt you."

The smile was brief, and sad, before Padme turned back to her preparing of the dried fruit. Seeing it, Anakin wasn't sure if he really wanted to know what had become of the beautiful water and marsh planet. They had taken their vows there. Conceived the twins there, in the old family home where Padme had grown up.

To think it had all be destroyed. . . because of him. . .

"Naboo still lives. Palpatine didn't achieve what he intended." Anakin felt a weight lift off his shoulders, and saw there was relief in Padme's eyes as well. "We were blessed. It could have been a lot worse but the Force took pity on us."

"The Emperor was limited on time, as well as resources. And he had a rather incompetent man, Ozzel something, in command. They landed and stormed the city. Not as many as when the Trade Federation tried to take over, but certainly enough. Our men were did what they could, but we were badly outnumbered, and outgunned. The Gungans came to our aid as soon as they received word."

Her hand trembled, and Anakin gently took the knife away, continued chopping as his wife relived that day. When Theed had fallen to the white armies of Palpatine and her friends and neighbors, her fellow Nabooians, came to stand at her side.

Only to fall.

After his body had reached stable conditions, Vader had been informed of the situation of Naboo. He had gone over the battle stage by stage with his commanders; watched the holo records as people, innocent people of Naboo, were cut down as the stormtroopers invaded the capital.

It was a wonder she, or anyone else for that matter, had been able to survive.

The Empire was thorough.

"So many of them died. More Gungans than any other, I think, because they had somewhat more primitive weapons, compared to the Empire's new ones. I was so afraid for them all. And Jar Jar," she laughed half-heartedly, "I don't know what became of him. He was on Corucant when last I heard. Force, Ani!" She turned to him, fear swimming in her large brown eyes. "What would Palpatine have done with him?"

Anakin didn't want to think about it. As annoying as the Gungan could be, he was still a friend. He was still a part of Skywalker's childhood and the past he shared with Padme and Obi-wan.

"I wanted to stay and fight," his wife continued, crushing the fruit to keep her hands busy. "But Obi-wan, Force bless his pig-headed determination, literally lifted me up and flew out of the palace toward the landing pad and our ship. I must have been five or six months pregnant by then. Not worth much in a fight."

He would have kissed her on the top of her head, smoothed the worry lines from her eyes. "I highly doubt that. Pregnant or not, I wouldn't have gotten in your way."

Padme laughed, nodded. "In the end, they won, of course. Palpatine's got some regent ruling, keeping things in order. I've received reports that Theed is in ruins, and the Gungan underwater cities sustained massive attacks from explosions. But the farming communities survived, so no one goes hungry. And I'm sure there's a resistance group there somewhere. It's all just a matter of starting over, of building back up with what we have left."

"You'll do it." Anakin told her, holding her close as she boiled water for tea. "We will do it. Just like we rebuilt our family, like we have to rebuild the Jedi...we can rebuild Naboo."

"I'm just thankful it wasn't worse."

He was thankful, Anakin decided, for the first time ever, that he was fallen into that lava. Otherwise, it might have been him who was leading the attack. He who had stormed the palace of Theed and burned the city to the ground.

And he would have found Obi-wan and Padme. And they might not have escaped.

He now had some vague idea as to what he would do when he got to Naboo. If he hadn't had his family with him, if more time had passed since his return, Anakin admitted to himself he would probably have joined the resistance movement on planet and prepared some sort of coup de etat to regain the capital from the Imperials.

But there wasn't time for that, nor did he want to risk his family. And, he had to ask himself, was he willing to place the people of Naboo into danger once again? They had suffered, partly on his account. Could he ask them to do that again?

Better just to leave this to the local resistance.

For the moment, Anakin only wanted to return to the peaceful place where he had sworn to love and cherish his angel for the rest of their lives.

Padme had told him, as she sat and sipped her tea and made disgusted faces due to the taste, about how her family had left the planet and sought political asylum from Bail Organa on Alderaan. She still had the codes to their manor home in the country, and that's where they would land, and stay, while on Naboo.

But when she asked him why they were going to Naboo in the first place, and how long they would stay, Anakin didn't have an answer for her.

Some things, she nodded in understanding, were just best left alone.

* * *

Caslia


	17. The Return Home: Chapter 5

More again. . .

* * *

Chapter Three:

The Return Home

Six months after Rebirth of the Light . . .

* * *

Contrary to popular belief, Master Yoda was perhaps one of the better Jedi pilots of the Old Republic, nearly as adept at it as Anakin. And while the Jedi Order had collapsed along with the Republic, and his Jedi wisdom was needed less now with the majority of the Order destroyed, Yoda had discovered that some skills, such as piloting, never failed to be of some use.

Flying the ship loaned to him by the Thanalieerians, Yoda entered the airspace of Naboo mostly undetected. It proved easy enough to slip in between the two police vessels the regent of the new Nabooian government, a puppet of the Empire, had guarding the planet.

Landing was something of a more difficult task.

The Master's destination lay within the ruins of the city of Theed, the Palace, and to reach it he would have to land close to the city, as to avoid having his ship sink in the marshes.

The ruins offered the best cover, and though Yoda knew there were probably rebel forces somewhere within, he did not have the time to search them out and dock his ship with them. The best course of action was simply to land in the courtyard of one of the old manor houses, in the area of Theed that had taken the least of the shelling, and hope his ship would remain unfound.

If not, he would be stranded here till he either found the rebel forces, or Obi-wan and Anakin arrived. He knew they were coming, just as he knew he would find them at the old home of Amidala, along with the twins.

He would have one last chance to secure the future of the twins, or accept that the Force had found another way to defeat the Darkness.

Yoda had left Alderaan concerned about the future, now that Anakin had been redeemed, at least partially, and the twins no longer in his care. What would become of them, he didn't know. Obi-wan had been sure they could trust Anakin, that if only Yoda would give him a chance, Skywalker would prove his loyalty. It was agreed between them that the Jedi Master should leave for a time. His presence only aggravated the former Sith, and would make the healing process harder.

So Yoda had left, making his way to Dagobah for a short respite. There, the Force had granted him a vision. It told him to go to Naboo and seek out the past, so that a future might be built of truth.

So here he was, far too old to be on a mission of this sort, but without any other choice.

Yoda cackled quietly to himself. Too old, others might think him to be. But it would be patience and observation that would enable his mission to succeed. And though he was short on time, with the Skywalkers fast approaching, Yoda put his faith in the Force, and set out for the palace.

* * *

With only a few hours left before they arrived at Naboo, Obi-wan left the cockpit, where he had stayed on guard for most of the trip and went in search of Anakin. They hadn't really talked since leaving Tatooine.

Obi-wan admitted to himself that he didn't really want to talk about what had happened in the Jundland Wastes, and he very highly doubted Anakin wanted another pep talk or further reassurance. The man could be so stubborn like that, refusing any kind of sympathy or comfort when he might need it. Kenobi knew he had been blind to those times before, never offering anything when Anakin needed it, giving lectures instead. But now he worried if he offered too much, Anakin might withdraw.

But maybe in place of comfort all Anakin needed right now was a friend.

The sweet cooing of the twins told Obi-wan Sabé and Padme were busy and he passed by their quarters without interrupting. It was impossible to avoid the children in such close quarters as were found aboard the iKrayt Dragon/i, and Obi-wan had discovered, quite to his own amazement, that he had rather a soft spot for the two babes.

They were more than just bundles of slobber, mashed apricot-flavored baby food and diapers. And every day he could feel them reaching out toward the adults around them with the Force, bathing Obi-wan in the unquestioning love and adoration a baby feels towards its guardians.

It was beautiful, and humbling.

Passing the twins' rooms, Obi-wan came to the one chamber he had entered as little as possible, and almost not at all since arriving at Tattooine. Anakin's personal chambers. Within, the Empire had rigged a special air generator that would pump pure oxygen into the room, allowing the Sith to breathe without the mask.

That didn't bother Obi-wan as much as what the room represented. The sterile, dead existence of Darth Vader. The room lacked any type of human feeling to it. It was like a home for a machine, not the young man Obi-wan had known before the Empire.

And the Force felt tainted in that room, as though the essence of the Darkness still lingered in the shadowed corners. Obi-wan didn't mention it to Anakin, but he didn't feel the need to do so.

Anakin despised the chamber, with good reason.

Palming the door, Obi-wan waited for access then entered the sterile room and was gifted with something of a pleasant surprise.

The room was no longer bleak.

Far from it.

The floor was littered with what could only be described as hazardous baby objects obviously meant for the purpose of being left where grown-ups could trip on them. There were little wooden trains and rubber balls. A blanket had been spread out in a corner of the room so tiny bodies wouldn't feel the cold. Diapers and a number of toilet necessities were piled neatly in one corner, no doubt Sabé's doing.

And all over the lower part of the wall, anywhere that was within reach of a seven month old child who was on the verge of learning to walk, there were scattered, miscellaneous crayon scribbling.

The mechanical chamber of Darth Vader, feared Sith Lord of the Empire, had become a child's nursery.

Even the bottom of the oxygen chamber had markings on it. In the corner, a small, forgotten toy lay on its side spinning in a circle and playing a merry little tune.

Momentarily disoriented but eventually rather pleased by this new discovery, Obi-wan ventured to cross the room and approach the chamber. There was no way to announce his presence to his friend inside, but Kenobi figured Anakin knew he was there and waited for him to open the chamber.

A few moments later, the egg-like pod cracked open, releasing a rush of air. There was the creaking of mechanical parts, the whoosh of pressure released. Anakin sat at the top of the steps in his chair, which once had sported rather terrifying arms that would help the former Sith remove his helmet. Now, they were tucked away behind the chair, out of sight.

There was nothing that remained to frighten a young child.

Even the oppressing figure that was Anakin seemed diminished, bent over in his throne, a tool in one hand, a broken doll in the other.

Obi-wan raised a brow and Anakin shrugged, somewhat embarrassed.

"Padme wanted a few hours to herself yesterday, so I offered to keep watch on the twins alone. Things got a little out of hand."

"Was that before or after you offered them the crayons?"

Anakin shrugged again and turned back to the doll's broken arm and fiddled with the wires. "Turns out Luke has something of an artist in him. That, combined with the Jedi ability of telekinesis led to the redecorating of the room."

His former master chuckled and climbed the steps to lean against the side of the chair and watch his friend at work. How Padme had been able to get so many toys on board and still sneak on without her husband knowing was a mystery to Obi-wan. But then, many things women did were mysterious to him.

Looking around the room from this new angle, Obi-wan wondered at how such a dismal room could suddenly shift into being a bright place full of happiness and innocence. The tainted feeling was gone. It might never have been there at all.

"It's incredible how things change."

"It is." Anakin agreed, finishing up with the doll and setting her gently on the consul panel across from them, where a black screen stared back. The doll tilted to the side, her little blond curls forming a pillow on the cold metal and Anakin smiled. "I've never felt comfortable here, but here I am, lingering over the twins' toys and their drawings."

Obi-wan couldn't help but chuckle. "I have to tell you, Anakin, I'm really proud of you. You really are a good father to Luke and Leia. They're some of the happiest children I've ever known."

Anakin glowed with pride at the comment, and his love for his son and daughter. It was astonishing the way he felt around them, astonishing how they made him want to shout with laughter and run around, as if, if Anakin ran fast enough, he might just find himself airborne.

Still, he scoffed jokingly and replied, "Well, that's not saying much. You haven't known all that many children, Obi-wan. You're more of a ladies man."

Kenobi smiled but ignored the comment.

"I don't quite understand." Anakin admitted to his friend, shaking his head. "I know well enough from being a Jedi Knight that no matter how much I want to protect Luke and Leia from everything that might ever threaten them that such a thing is impossible. And yet I still find myself wanting to promise them that."

"They're my flesh and blood, a part of me. Hopefully the better part. And I can't imagine not having them with or near me. And only a few months ago, I had no idea I was going to be a father. What am I going to do when they grow up and go off on their own? What am I going to do when suddenly they aren't little babies any more but young Jedi growing up in a galaxy torn by war?"

Silence followed as Obi-wan considered this. "I guess you'll just have to learn to let go. I think it's the same for every parent. You want to cling to your child and cherish every moment with them, watching them grow up. But you can't. You've got to let them learn and live on their own."

Anakin sagged at the thought, already imagining his children all grown up and leaving him.

The Jedi smiled mischievously and poked his friend. "Don't look so sad, Anakin! You've got years before they even consider leaving you alone for a moment. And when that happens, they'll be the most annoying, irritating teenagers you've ever encountered. By the Force!"

"What?"

"Oh, I was just imagining suddenly having two brash, head-strong Skywalkers running loose! You were bad enough, but Luke and Leia will have both their parents in them! By the Force, I think the galaxy just might be doomed!"

Laughing, Anakin rose from his seat, took the steps two at a time and crossed the room amid the mess of the twin's possessions. "Come on," he called over his shoulder, "isn't it about time we reach Naboo?"

Chuckling to himself, Obi-wan followed his friend, for the first time leaving the once-bleak chamber in high spirits.

* * *

Having discovered the security around the palace and the administrative buildings was lacking, something the Emperor would have not approved of, Yoda slipped in without incident and quietly made his way down the long marble halls.

Officials, mostly Imperials with only a handful of natives, passed him occasionally; in a hurry to fulfill whatever task they had been given. Aides hurried behind them, speaking in low tones.

No one who happened to glance his way ever saw anything.

It was depressing, seeing the Palace of Theed in this condition. True, it had survived the worst of the shelling done by the invading Imperial forces. But it wasn't so much the architecture that told the Jedi Master how much the place had changed.

It was small things, but enough altered details can change a picture all together. Where once there might have been a beautiful arrangement of flowers in a simple but elegant vase, now there was nothing. There were drapes pulled across windows where before the sun had shone warmly and without interference. Here and there were objects sporting the Imperial symbol, its gray tones contrasting appallingly with the warm, light colors used to decorate the palace.

Perhaps most disturbing was the lack of bird song and water rippling that had been the melody when Yoda had last been to Naboo. After the destruction of the city, the birds had all fled, save for the scavengers. A quick observation from a balcony confirmed Yoda's guess that the Imperials had shut off the fountains and dammed the river.

He half expected to find the Library of Resources in ruins, the old manuscripts and books written on paper burned, the datapads smashed.

But when Yoda pushed open the tall wooden doors and slipped silently inside, he was reassured when finding everything was just as he imagined the royals had left it. The grand bookshelves lining the walls held all their precious information, the communal holo player in the middle of the room, the windows of blown glass, everything was undisturbed.

It took some work, and a lot of searching, but Yoda finally found the volume he was looking for. It was on a shelf higher than a tall human could reach, but not too high for the Force. The pages were slightly yellowed, and the oldest dates went back to the formation of the Nabooian government some two thousand years ago, after the abdication of the young king of the last Nabooian dynasty.

The more modern dates, three quarters through the book, and the names written in beside them, held more interest.

Here was what Yoda had been looking for. It confirmed his and the Council's suspicions, but asked more questions than it answered.

Yoda replaced the book and carefully snuck out of the library, making his way unseen back down the hallways and into the ruins of the city of Theed. No one bothered him and there was no reason to believe anyone would later discover his presence. It was a successful mission, depending on how you valued the retrieved information.

Now, it was to his ship, and then, he had a meeting to attend.

* * *

From above, the ruin that was the city of Theed looked like a graveyard as they flew by it, careful of Imperial radar systems.

Even from a distance, you could make out the Palace, rising above the destruction scattered about the streets, like a gravel yard. The parks were gone, no green touched the city. The lake remained, but the river had been stilled, a feat Anakin would have thought impossible.

Whether or not there were people struggling to survive in that husk of a city, he didn't know. They were brave if there were.

"Force, I didn't really believe it would be this bad."

Beside him, strapped into the co-pilot chair with Luke in her arms, Padme stared at the remains of her former home and sighed deeply. "It used to be so beautiful, didn't it? I used to hope it had all just been a terrible nightmare."

"But things never are, are they?"

"No."

It was reassuring to see the countryside had remained mostly untouched. Flying over the fields and the hills towards Padme's home, Anakin saw small farming communities, ox-like creatures plowing the fields and almost no Imperial patrols. They may have lost their government and their capital, but the people still survived and worked the land as they always had. There was hope in that. A chance to rebuild.

The security was so slack, Anakin simply kept to the higher hills, flying at a distance from any of the major cities and he managed to avoid notice.

Soon, the lake where their family home rested came into view and Anakin was relieved to see it remained in one piece. They landed, and disembarked to be greeted to the songs of birds and the smell of the lake nearby.

Padme breathed in deeply and used her sleeve to wipe a tear away.

She was home, and this time she had brought her children with her.

The house was just as she remembered it. Not so much time had passed that it showed the signs of neglect, and Padme guessed some of the servants still came by from time to time, because the garden in the front was free of weeds and entrance hall was clean of dust when they entered.

Sabé took the children from her mistress and let the young woman wonder around the house, looking and touching, recalling her life before the war. There was a sweet, sad smile on her face, and when she lingered in the doorway of one of the rooms, Anakin followed her hesitantly.

It was a beautiful, sunlit room with few decorations. There were lace curtains at the windows and a vase that should have held flowers in a corner. The floor was made of real wood and creaked when you walked on it.

Beyond it opened to a white marble balcony with a majestic view of the lake and the setting sun.

Gently, Anakin wrapped his arms around his little wife, offering love and comfort. Padme leaned back against her husband, wrapped her arms around his and smiling, ignoring the tears.

Home.

They spent the night in the rooms once shared by the Naberries before they had fled for political asylum on Alderaan. The manor was extremely secluded; being so far from the capital on the lake, so none of the furniture had been stolen. Everything was just as the family had left it, as though they had been intending to return after an off-world vacation.

Padme slept in her old room, surrounded by childhood memories and adolescent achievements: her diploma from the Naboo School of Diplomacy and Galactic Relations, her mementos from her time as Queen Amidala, stuffed animals, old birthday holos and dolls worn from the years of tea parties and kisses.

The twins slept in her and her sister's old cribs at the end of the bed; wrapped in the comfort and serenity the manor offered them.

In the room next door where Padme's parents had slept, Sabé laid curled innocently in Obi-wan's arms, deep in dreams. The Jedi Knight, his bearded chin resting gently on her head, features child-like in sleep, snored lightly.

But Anakin was restless and so roamed the bottom levels of the house, pausing ever so often to stare out a window at the still lake. From time to time, he stepped outside under the moonlight. There, with no eyes to watch, he removed a single glove and felt the cold breeze against his pale skin.

He smiled at how something so small brought comfort.

Eventually, he dozed off in a chair and didn't wake till the morning sunlight kissed him with warmth and woke him to the sounds of Padme in the kitchen and Sabé giving the twins a bath.

It was all so wonderful.

"Anakin! Anakin, come quickly! Come look!"

His wife's excited call from the outside brought Anakin running from the study, followed quickly by Obi-wan. They rushed through the door where Padme stood with a wonderful smile and tears in her eyes.

They were in the garden, where the flowers grew in bright abundance and the warm sunlight shining down through the leave giving it a mystical feel.

In the middle of the garden, little toes curled in the grass and arms outstretched, seven-month old Luke reached out a tiny hand for a golden butterfly that flittered around him. Laughing, feeling his parent's merriment, Luke took a step forward, then another, till he was almost to the gravel path.

He giggled as the butterfly alighted in the palm of his hand.

"Oh, Anakin!" Was all Padme could get out before her breath failed her and she covered her lips with a hand, her glistening eyes on her son. At a complete loss for words, Anakin wrapped an arm around her and held her close.

Leia, not be outdone by her brother, pushed herself off her chubby knees and swayed as she tried to find her balance. Padme moved to help her daughter, but Anakin pulled her back.

"Wait. Let her try it on her own."

And as they watched, their daughter took three stumbling steps after her brother and stood at his side, staring with childish wonder at the butterfly in his hand. Leia cooed with glee at their success, then looked up at her father and reached out her arms.

Nearly blinded by tears, Anakin leaned down and scooped up his children in his arms.

When everyone could finally speak again and the twins had been properly praised, Anakin settled down in the grass and played with his son and daughter as Sabé comforted the emotional mother.

Watching him, Obi-wan smiled and regretted having to break the moment. He knelt down beside his friend, letting Leia climb clumsily into his lap and tug at the hem of his cloak. He laughed gently and lifted her into his arms. "It's so incredible. A few months ago, they were just little things. And here they are, walking. I almost didn't believe it was possible."

"Yes," Anakin replied, watching his son toddle about. "Life is amazing. So precious."

"Anakin...I know this isn't really the best time, but I think you should known. I felt a presence earlier. Master Yoda is on Naboo, and getting closer to us. He should be here before the afternoon ends."

The former Sith nodded, his demeanor suddenly grave. "Yes, I felt it too. He knows we're here and it coming. I only wish I knew what he wants, so that I might be prepared for it this time. I don't want there to be any trouble between us. But he has to understand. I'm not leaving."

"Good. Because no one's going to make you."

The Jedi shared a smile, then Anakin rose to his feet, careful of the twins underfoot. "Well then, we might as well go and meet him."

* * *

Yoda was waiting for them at the landing pad by the time the two had walked from the manor house down the road. The little Jedi Master didn't look any older than when they had last seen him. The last time Anakin had seen Yoda after months of separation, he had thought he looked as though he had aged a millennium.

But there was something in Yoda's eyes now, a look of concern and Anakin's first thought was of his two children, just now learning to walk.

Where they in danger?

"Master Yoda." Skywalker bowed to the diminutive Jedi. Obi-wan followed suit, his face devoid of emotion.

"Skywalker. Come, I do, with worrisome information. Been, I have, through the records of Naboo elected officials. Elected for his post, Palpatine was, ten years before the war with the Trade Federation. But from Naboo he was not. Unknown, are his true origins. Hoped, I had, that confirmed the council's and my fears, he would not. If not a true citizen of Naboo, was Palpatine, then full training as a Sith he might have received, from descendants of Lord Bane."

"That would mean he is far more dangerous than a Dark Jedi meddling in the Dark Arts." Obi-wan observed, looking worried. Yoda nodded in agreement and looked to Skywalker.

"Anakin, tell us, you must, what you know of the Emperor. Ever tell you, did he, of his own training in the Force?"

With the shaking of his masked head, Anakin increased the worry on their faces. "No, Palpatine told me little about himself. He never mentioned anything about his past, and his personal life is a mystery. But you're right. If there aren't any records of his origins, he might have been trained as a Sith, not as a fallen Jedi, then come to Naboo and earned a name for himself. If this is true, he could be far more dangerous, and far more powerful. We have to be very careful."

There was a unanimous agreement to that. It was all the more important now they not be caught by Imperials, and that the rebellion succeeded in their cause.

Sith, not fallen Jedi Knights like Anakin Skywalker and Count Dooku, but real, terrifying Sith like the ones mothers frightened their troublesome children with, had ruled the galaxy thousands of years ago. Then they were destroyed by the Jedi forces of the Tetra Empire, soon to become the Old Galactic Republic.

In the time they had been in power, the Sith had cowed the galaxy in their shadows, bringing with them terror and chaos.

If the Emperor had been trained as a traditional Sith, a descendent of those tyrannical Darksiders from thousands of years ago, he could not be allowed to continue to rule.

If Anakin had ever had any remaining doubts, they were stripped away now and forever.

"So," Yoda turned to him, his old faced wrinkles and tired. "What now, will you do?"

Anakin didn't need to give it much thought. Surprisingly, he discovered he had been thinking on it for a long time now, probably since he had fully recognized his redemption. He had a destiny to fulfill, after all.

He looked to Obi-wan and nodded. "Begin again, I think. Padme will have to return to the Alliance, and I'll send Sabé and the children with them. But I need to stay here, and refresh my training. Start all over, if I have to. Obi-wan can school me in the Force. He did once, he can do it again. That is," he smiled hopefully at his old mentor. "If you're up to the challenge?"

Kenobi nodded, warmth only briefly touching his eyes as he replied solemnly, "Yes. But are you sure this is what you want to do, Anakin? No one is pressuring you into taking on this burden."

"I'm the only Jedi left strong enough to defeat Palpatine, and I think we all know why that is. You're better than me when it comes to skills and technique, but you lack in raw power. And Master Yoda is too old to face him. We don't have enough time to scavenge the galaxy for any other remaining Jedi."

"Worried, I am." Yoda said, leaning heavily on his gimmer stick. "Like this, I do not. But," he sighed deeply and closed his tired eyes. "See no other option, do I. Very well. A Jedi again you are, young Skywalker. And train you, Obi-wan will. Search, I will, for other Jedi that survived the Purges. Move quickly you must, for fear I do, what will happen if time Palpatine has to establish his control."

With that the little master turned and started to walk up the ramp back into his ship. Obi-wan bowed, and Anakin copied him, but called to Yoda hastily.

"Master."

Yoda paused, and half turned, waiting.

"I won't fail you this time, Master Yoda."

Yoda nodded after a moment. "Have faith in you, I must, for now at risk are your children, your family, as well as yourself and the galaxy. Fear not, young Skywalker, for fear is the Darkside. And the Force be with you."

They watched the ship rise into the sky and disappear in the blue as Yoda left for space and the hunt for Jedi began. Obi-wan turned to his friend and tried for a weak smile.

"Seems I got stuck with you again."

Anakin, his eyes on the spot where the ship had disappeared, only nodded.

Padme was waiting for them when they got back to the manor.

They joy that had lit up her face when watching the twins stumble around the garden was gone, replaced by deep worry and a trace of fear. But there was also anger there, that bone-deep fury Anakin had fallen in love with, they way her spine straighter and her hand clenched into fists to keep herself under control.

He wondered, for a moment, if she somehow knew already of what Yoda had told them. But when she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, Anakin had a jolt of fear. Had something happened to Luke or Leia?

He didn't have to ask what happened. Padme pulled back and looked from him to Obi-wan, then back again.

"There was a message from the Alliance. Artoo brought it to me from the ship. They've received a transmission from a rebel spy on Coruscant, with access to the Imperial Palace. Anakin, he claims you're acting as a spy for the Emperor."

Skywalker cursed. He should have seen this coming. Should have known Palpatine would try and do whatever he could to destroy Skywalker now that he had been redeemed. As Anakin, he was a threat, and the Emperor would have him removed, by any moved necessary.

"What does the Alliance High Command say?" Obi-wan asked.

"Fortunately, very little. Enough of the leaders, as well as pilots and crewmen are arguing in Anakin's favor. The High Command isn't making an issue of it, thank the Force. You gained enough of their trust that they haven't put out a warrant for your arrest. They just want us to return, ask you a few questions. Wait till the matter is settled. They probably think like us, that Palpatine is doing this out of spite."

"Well," Anakin sighed, relieved it was nothing worse but hating the delay, knowing his training would have to wait till they had been to the Alliance and back. "I know we only just got here, but..."

"But what can we do?" Padme nodded. "Sabé and I are already preparing the twins to go. We can leave in two hours."

Later, Anakin watched as Naboo faded behind them into a blue-green marble. It had been wonderful to go back, but as usual the galaxy refused to let the Skywalkers alone. But he would return, and soon.

Anakin was a Jedi again, with a family, and new responsibilities. Things had changed, but the Force still needed its Chosen One.

* * *

Caslia


	18. The Emperor's Interference: Chapter 1

:) Well, we're starting a new chapter in RotL2. This one should be a short one, but interesting enough. :)

* * *

Chapter Four:

The Emperor's Interference

One year after Rebirth of the Light. . .

* * *

They arrived back at the Alliance fleet only two weeks after leaving. Normally, two weeks wasn't a long period of time. A star battle or two might have been fought. A handful of new personnel might have arrived. There was always the off chance a sudden increase in rebel funds might have permitted another star ship to be bought off the black market.

That was the usual.

But when Anakin pulled the _Kryat Dragon_ out of hyperspace, their former Imperial shuttle was greeted not by the sight of the medical frigate and an X-wing squadron, but by what could have easily passed as rush hour in Coruscate's red sector.

There were the usual, black market or bounty hunter ships that were really nothing more than scrap metal complied into what somewhat resembled a ship. But there were also another five squadrons of X-wings, cruisers, personal vessels, frigates, transports and shuttles of all shapes and sizes, two dreadnaughts, and even a beat up old YT-1300 freighter. Most surprising of all were the random Tie fighters causally flying through exercises or heading in to land in one of the docking bays of the larger ships.

This was either a very friendly cease-fire, or the war had ended while they were in hyperspace.

"What do you thinks going on?" Anakin wasn't quiet sure if he trusted what his eyes were telling him, but his Force senses didn't suggest this was a trap. "What are all these ships doing here?"

"I don't know." Padme shook her head, just as confused. "Look, there off to starboard. That's the Medical frigate. Let's dock and find Bail. We need to deal with the Council first."

In silent agreement, Anakin turned to the controls and easily glided the former Imperial shuttle through the assembly of star ships. No one hailed them and no rebel star fighters moved to escort them as they made for the frigate that housed Rebel Home One.

It was bewildering.

They landed with some difficulty, as there was little room left in the docking bay, and when the family emerged from the shuttle, they discovered the place to be more crowded than they had first thought.

Everyone was going somewhere, people rushed by them, calling out hellos or simply staring at Vader as they dashed past. There were mechanics and pilots, some of them dressed in Imperial flight suits, some in outfits Anakin guess were aligned to neither side. There were droids everywhere too, some hooting and hollering over human conversation. Artoo gave a quiet whistle, like he did when he was confused or scared, then beeped at his counter part.

"I have no idea, Artoo." Threepio patted his friend on his domed head. "By the maker, I haven't the foggiest idea what all these droids are doing here. Or all these people for that matter."

"We need to find Bail." Padme insisted, trying to see through the throng of people.

"Artoo, Threepio, you stay here. We don't want you getting lost. Sabé, best if you take the twins and stay with them on the ship." Turning, Anakin took Padme's hand and they started off into the crowd, Obi-wan following closely behind.

The bay wasn't the only place filled with people. The halls were the same, hundred filled the corridors, mothers clutching little children to them, families crowded together, watching everyone that passed by. There were young men standing in groups, eagerly discussing something. Older men, some of them looking as though they had spent all their lives braving the Tatooine winds, crouched to the side. Beings were everywhere, some species Anakin had never seen before.

They all stopped talking as he passed. All eyes were on him as he passed. Anakin stared straight ahead, doing his best not to get in anyone's way.

He knew he should have been expecting this. The stories of Darth Vader had already traveled far and wide, including the tales about the crimes he had committed against the people of the galaxy. He had known he should have expected this, but it still unnerved him. His guilt tugged at him and Anakin felt he was going to be sick.

No one stepped in his way though, and they got through the crowded halls without incident.

They were admitted immediately to the Council Room, only to find it was empty. The guard politely asked them to wait for Senator Organa who would be along in a few minutes.

Skywalker was glad for the time to compose himself.

"Who were those people?" Obi-wan asked, keeping a wary eye on the door. He didn't like the thought of suddenly being surrounded by thousands of beings that could be potentially hostile toward Anakin. "There were so many of them. Where could they have all come from in so short a time?"

"They could be refugees." Padme pointed out, mulling it over.

"No, they're not. Did you look at them? There wasn't that haggard look that most refugees have, that look of hunger and loss and desperation. The children were calm, quiet even. The men were excited, not angry. No one was crying out, no one being rushed to the medical bay."

Padme looked from the Jedi Knight to her husband, but Anakin just shrugged.

"Then if they aren't refugees, then who are they?"

"They're rebels."

The trio looked up to see Bail Organa and Mon Mothma entered the Council Room, without guards and both wearing wide smiles. The former senator of Alderaan stepped up and actually offered Skywalker his hand.

Anakin hesitated, taken off guard, then took it and received a heart-felt, strong handshake.

"It's good to have you back, Skywalker. Welcome. Please, come and sit down. We obviously have a lot of things to talk about."

Obi-wan and Anakin exchanged worried glances, but settled down without comment.

"Bail, Mon, what's going on here?" Padme spoke up, shifting uncomfortably. "Who are all those people and what are they doing here? And what about the spy on Coruscant?"

"Calm down, Padme. It's all okay. Don't look so worried." Mothma chuckled, then reached across and took the older woman's hand. "We're just happy to see you all back and that everything turned out alright. If I remember correctly, when you left here, it was in quite a huff. Something about refusing to be left behind."

Padme blushed, but then nodded.

Anakin, sitting next to his wife at the table, reached under the table and took her other hand as a sign of reassurance. "Yes, my wife came after me, Senator. And it was a good thing she did. I never would have gotten as far as I have, both in life and in my new quest, without her." Padme beamed at Anakin and gave his hand a grateful squeeze.

"So you found what you were looking for, did you?" Organa asked, "Answers. Allies. Maybe more Jedi?"

"Ah, no." Obi-wan asked quickly before Anakin could speak up. "Among our number is the Jedi Master Yoda. You remember him, Senator, he sat as High Member of the Jedi Council before its destruction." The other man nodded gravely. "Master Yoda has taken on the quest of finding more Jedi. We believe there may very well be more of us out there somewhere. He will conduct the search. In the mean time, Anakin and I will continue on alone. In the future, we hope to rebuild a newe, better version of the old Order, more intone to the needs of the galaxy's people, and less involved in politics."

"Well, you certainly bring good news." Mon smiled, and leaned back in her chair, that smile still gracing her young face. "And we have some more good news for you. First off, the council has agreed the information again you, Skywalker, was obviously planted by the Emperor. So you're free to go whenever you please. We don't have any reason to hold you here."

Skywalker smiled, then nodded to show his relief. He had been worried that old grudges or fears the council members might have had towards him would have either blinded their judgment or been enough to give them reason to lock him up.

Not only would this have interfered with his new quest, but it would have also put him and unfortunately his family at odds with the rebel alliance, as he would have been forced to eventually break out and escape. For now, unless Yoda found other Jedi still out there that had somehow survived the Purges, the rebels were their only allies against the Emperor.

Needless to say, they were dependent upon the Rebellion, either until the Empire fell, or the Jedi Order was restored, and even then they might still have to lean heavily upon Organa and his people.

It was not a thought that settled well with Anakin.

The looks of relief were clear on Padme and Obi-wan's faces as well. They hadn't really discussed what they would do it the council's decision had been otherwise; it was clear everyone was pleased no drastic measures would have to be taken.

"That is good news." Anakin replied cautiously. "But I'm guess there's more than just that."

"You'd be right." Bail nodded and rose from his seat to retrieve a datapad from one of the cabinets against the wall. "Can you guess who all those people are out there? Or why they might be here?"

"You said they were rebels. Rebels from where? Some other base, maybe one that was attacked." Padme shook her head. "I don't remember we had another base somewhere, at least not one the size to hold all those people. What in the world will we do if we can't fit them all on our new Dreadnaught and on the Frigate? Am I correct in assuming that is our Dreadnaught we have floating out there?"

The red-headed senator nodded, looking extremely pleased. "That's right. All ours. Everyone of those ships out there."

"What about the Imperials?" Suspicious, Anakin didn't know what to make of all of this. What weren't they telling them? "I doubt you were able to just buy those off the black market. They looked in remarkable shape. Top grade, some of them."

"Like Mon said, they're all ours." Bail explained. "Some of the ships, the larger ones, are gifts from the outer-most solar systems, with sympathetic feelings towards the Rebellion. The freighters and the transports, the cruisers, all handed over to us by their pilots, with the agreement that they can continue to command them. The fighters, the same. Even the Imperials. In the last two weeks, we've had hundreds of beings, spacers, farmers, even Imperial stormtroopers and Tie pilots come to join the Alliance against the Empire. And as surprising as this seems, we have you to thank for it."

"Me?" Anakin looked startled. Him? They were here because of him?! That couldn't be right. They only knew him as Darth Vader, killer of innocents and lapdog of the Emperor. Even as Jedi Knight Skywalker, he had never inspired the kind of admiration and loyalty of people that both Obi-wan and Padme were capable of. Why in the world would all these people have swarmed here now? "I don't understand."

Organa and Mothma exchanged glances, then the man cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed in a slightly defensive pose. "We figured that by about this time, the Empire is more than well enough informed that you had deflected. Surely the Emperor would have made it known, not so much because he wanted to loose face, I assure you, he did, but so your information couldn't be used against the Empire."

"Of course Palpatine knows by now." Obi-wan interrupted, a quiet storm starting to brew across his brow. "He's a Sith. The man is a powerful Force- user. And it would only make sense to inform his men that Anakin no longer was to be trusted. What does that have to do with those people out there?"

"Well," Bail hesitated, but cleared his throat when he saw the look Kenobi was giving him, then continued. "If the Empire already knew, we didn't see any harm in the rest of the galaxy learning about it. And if we told them before the Empire did, they would hear our side of it first. So we told them how Darth Vader was once a Jedi Knight, tricked into joining Palpatine. He helped in hunting down a few of the Jedi, the more predominate ones, then was injured in an accident that required the armor and the mask. When the Emperor has created the Empire, he feared Vader might prove stronger than him and betray him, so Palpatine turned on his servant first and attempted to destroy him. Outraged, Vader sought out the rebels, us, and joined the Alliance in the fight against the injustice of the Imperial system." When no one said anything, the man cleared his throat again and looked around innocently. "It's the truth, essentially. True, we left out the part about your past and family life, but we didn't think you would want that in there."

There was silence in the room for a few moments, with Mon and Bail watching the trio with something close to worried anticipation. No one said a word till Anakin took a deep a breath as possible and let it out slowly.

"So. . . that is why all those people are here. They heard how the Emperor betrayed his own willing servant, how the system destroyed the man who had helped create it. And they heard how that man, angered and wronged, but now redeemed, came looking to join the rebels in the fight for justice. And now, they want to join to. To fight courageously for what they believe is right."

"Yes! Exactly!" Bail's face was both relieved and excite. But before he could say anything more, Obi-wan spoke.

"You know what you've done? Yes, you've swelled your ranks, and you've brought more systems out from under Imperial influence. You have a figurehead to rally to now, besides the betrayed Amidala 

and you've given people hope. But you've also increased your chances of being found, and the likelihood that those people will die in a fight in which they have no place."

"But – "

"Those people aren't soldiers." Padme sighed. "Bail, you've got mothers with children out there! You've got old men who can't hold a blaster, farmers who know nothing of space. What are you going to do with all these people? It's wonderful that you tried to help us by changing Ani's image, and that the Rebellion have so many new recruits. But. . . how are you going to make this work?"

"Just like we're going to make the new Jedi Order work," Anakin broke in. The former senators turned questioning looks towards him, but his wife and friend looked at him in disbelief. "It will take time, and dedication. But it has to be done. Padme, these people came here looking for hope, for a better future. Already the Empire has failed in its promises to them. Already they know the Emperor's tyranny. Maybe this if for the best. I agree they make the Alliance's fight more complicated, but it had to happen sooner or later."

"But, Anakin, what . . .what will you say to all these people?" Obi-wan ran a hand over his suddenly tired eyes, wondering at the wrinkles he was sure hadn't been there only a few moments ago. He was getting old if the thought of having to deal with all these people suddenly daunted him. "They can here to fight beside you, to avenge both their ruined lives, unfulfilled promises and your 'betrayal'. What will you tell them when we leave?"

"Leave?!" Bail nearly jumped out his chair. "Leave? And go where? Why?"

"You said he was free to come and go as he pleased." Padme reminded her friend.

"I did, but. . . but leave? Skywalker, General Kenobi is right. What are we supposed to tell these people when they learn Lord Vader isn't here to encourage them and to fight along side them? They came here because they believe in you. You're their hero!"

Almost groaning, Anakin wished he were anywhere but here in this situation. Someone else now wanted him to be the hero, to play the role of the infallible warrior king. He didn't want that. Hadn't that been what he had been trying to escape when he destroyed the Jedi Order? Their insufferable need for him to be their hero, their precious Chosen One, destined to save them and bring Balance. He couldn't do that again. With such responsibility weighing on him, Anakin knew he would only begin to fear what would happen if he failed them all.

And then he would fail. And disappoint all those people, and the rest of the galaxy, and himself.

He couldn't do that again.

"I will tell you what you should tell them." He said softly, leaning back in the chair, feeling drained. "Tell them they made the right choice, to come and fight. Tell them they don't need me here with them, that they're all their own heroes, just for standing up to the Empire and its evil. You can tell them the truth about who I am and why I served the Emperor. And then you can tell them that I intend to make up for all my crimes by training to be a Jedi again, and eventually, by doing what I can to defeat the Emperor."

Organa couldn't seem to grasp what had just been set before him, obviously overwhelmed by the thought that Skywalker wouldn't be here to deal with his new followers, but rather, going off to train for some mythical quest. But Mon Mothma nodded and smiled; not so confidently as before, but at least a little reassuringly.

"I think I understand, my friend. You have another destiny to fulfill. Very well. But thank you for all the aid you have given us." And then she rose from her chair and bowed. "Jedi Skywalker. The Alliance is grateful to you."

Relieved, Anakin also rose and bowed in return. "I will continue to do what I can for you and your people, Senator. But you're right; I must complete my duties as a Jedi. We will return to Thantinia soon. But for now, would you mind if my family and I remain and restock?"

The red-headed senator agreed and with the less than satisfied Bail Organa at her side, escorted the trio out of the Council Room.

Once out in the halls again and the door shut behind them, Anakin was once again confronted by all the beings staring.

He very much wished he could smile at them, to put both himself and them at ease. They had come here to fight beside him, partially because of a half- truth, partly because they saw hope somewhere in the dark shadowed panes that made the features of his mask.

A little Nikto girl escaped the arms of her guardian and ran up to Anakin, stopping but a foot away and staring up at him in wonder. Uncertain what to do, he slowly knelt down to her level and sent out gentle, reassuring waves on the Force.

"Hello, little one," he intoned, hoping he didn't sound too threatening. "Do you know who I am?" The child nodded and she continued to stare, wide- eyed, at him. But the Force told Anakin she wasn't afraid, just in awe.

Anakin himself was awed by this simple fact.

He was about to say something else, though what he would have said, he didn't know, having only real experience with his own children, when the girl turned and ran back to her family, quickly disappearing into the crowd.

Anakin rose and watched after her, wondering. So many had come. Where would the rebels put them all? They needed a home base of some sort.

"Anakin." Obi-wan interrupted his friend's thoughts as they made their way through the crowd back to the docking bay and Sabé. "Anakin, that child had Force potential."

It was just one more surprise to add up for the day.

* * *

Caslia


	19. The Emperor's Interference: Chapter 2

We can thank TJM for choreographing most of the up-coming dueling scene, the dialogue, as well as for sorting out a number of issues in this post.

This is the first post where Palpatine actually shows his wrinkly, sinister face. It's regrettable, but necessary. ;)

* * *

Chapter Four:

The Emperor's Interference

* * *

One year after Rebirth of the Light. . .

* * *

As dusk settled over the Throne world of the Empire, the ruler of this dark domain watched from high up, in the former Jedi Temple, a place of light and wonder, as the blood red sun sunk below the horizon.

So, too, would he extinguish the light of Anakin Skywalker.

Turning from the window, Palpatine made his way over to his obsidian desk and sat, eyeing the crystal bowl of sweetmeats at his right. He was all to aware of the slow decay of his body, the melting away of the flesh, the hollowing of his bones.

The Darkside was eating away at his body, destroying it as he drew on his energy, much like he would pluck one of the raspberry treats and suck the sweetness from it, rolling it around on his tongue and between his teeth, delighting at the tangy taste.

It took time to suck and lick away all of the hard, sweet candy to the gummy center. So too did the Darkside find Palpatine was a treat it had to savor and wait for, rather than simply devour.

Sitting in his cold, marble throne in the black draped room, metaphor in mouth, Palpatine chuckled quietly to himself.

It was amusing to know Skywalker actually thought he was going to get away with this.

Leaning back in his chair, placing fingertips to fingertips against his lips, he considered all the options at his disposal, weighing which would prove the most painful way for Skywalker to pay for his treason.

As if he hadn't faced worse threats before. As if others hadn't turned traitor on him, only to pay the consequences.

Hadn't he been the one to bring down the Old Republic and resurrect the glorious and ever-lasting Empire of the Sith? What was one, measly old Jedi and his soiled apprentice to him, the Emperor Palpatine?

Skywalker couldn't be so conceited as to actually think, for even one second, that he even had a chance of bringing down the Empire. And if he did, then that would just be another weakness Palpatine could easily exploit. The man was a fool, and his so-called friends, who had already proven their true colors by not attempting to save Skywalker in the first place, were be easy prey.

He could kidnap the twins, Skywalker's year-old children who reportedly had Force potential. And as heart broken as Palpatine knew this would make Anakin Skywalker and his detestable little wife, that simpering woman to whom he had once been bound, Palpatine did not relish the thought of having children in the Imperial Palace.

The pitter-patter of little feet was the last thing he really wanted.

Well, there was always the good, old-fashioned assassination, a ploy he had used time and time again to obtain his goals.

But no, Skywalker deserved something worse.

There was always the option to somehow lure the Skywalkers and friends into a trap, then pick them apart one by one, using their own growing despair and weaknesses to feed his own power. And while this might satisfy the Emperor's ever-growing hunger, it did not have in it the malice Palpatine was looking for.

Then a cold smile crept across his bloodless lips.

Well, here was a thought.

The greatest threat Anakin Skywalker posed to him was the loyalty and admiration he commanded of the rebels. And while he had already tried, and failed, to soil Skywalker in the eyes of his new comrades, there was perhaps something more he could do to disrupt the Alliance and at the same time hurt Skywalker.

There was an influx of new volunteers to the Rebel Alliance at the moment. It would be ever so easy to slip someone in through that crowd, someone Palpatine could be assured would do away with Skywalker, publicly, so as to dishearten the Rebellion.

And he would give the order that Kenobi and Amidala must be left alive, to suffer this new and terrible loss. The Alliance would loose its new, shining figurehead, the horrible but redeemed Darth Vader who now had a righteous cause.

The twins would be easy enough to deal with later. Skywalker's cubs would probably turn out as easy to manipulate as Skywalker himself had been. Kenobi was a worthless, worn out man who was no threat to the Empire.

Amidala, lovely and strong. Palpatine's smile grew, enjoying the thought of her pain. She would cry and weep and know the greatest despair of them all. How delectable.

Palpatine reached for another of the sweetmeats, popped the hard candy in his mouth and sighed in contentment.

The ultimate twist to the Emperor's plan came when he considered the likely candidates. Among them was a young and inexperienced bounty hunter, with a personal grudge against the Jedi, supposedly few morals, and a rather secretive past.

When contacted, thy young man agreed to take on the job. It would prove to be easy enough to discover the location of the rebel fleet and disguise himself as a eager volunteer. He boy would get the job done.

As to the question of loyalty, Palpatine felt sure enough of that. It helped that the hunter's father had once also worked willingly and well for the Sith Lord, albeit unknowingly.

And should the man be killed in his attempt to destroy Skywalker, the galaxy wouldn't miss one more worthless misfit like Boba Fett.

* * *

"Don't look so glum, Ani."

"How can you possibly know I look glum?"

"I'm you're wife, I know everything."

Anakin's response to that was a low hum in his throat, but little else. They were in the middle of the crowded hanger bay on the way to their ship, and he didn't like people overhearing their conversations. Not like they could have.

Everyone tended to give the former Dark Lord an extremely wide berth.

It had been three days since they had returned to the rebel fleet to find it swarming with new volunteers for the alliance. There was barely a place to sit in the cafeteria; all the rooms had been taken on board. Beings were everywhere. Droids filled all the empty spaces.

And if they weren't staring at the Skywalker family, they were doing their best to look everywhere but in their direction.

A few beings had been brave enough, or naïve enough, depending on how you look at it, to come up and shake the former Sith's hand, offering congratulations and thanks. Anakin at first returned this sort of behavior with surprise and hesitancy, then with warmth and honest, then mild uneasiness, and finally with annoyance.

These people had been looking for a hero to look up to, and they had found one in him. Only, it wasn't the real him, it was some shining, beautiful monster they had carved from his black armor, given a soul and named their savoir.

It was pathetic, but Anakin from time to time mused that there probably wasn't much about their lives right now that wasn't. So he tried not to spoil their childish dreams of redemption. They needed them now as much as he had a year ago.

So when a crowd would part and make way for him, Anakin was uncomfortable, but understanding.

"The Alliance is going to have to find a place for these people, Padme. And soon. This is getting dangerous. This new influx of volunteers is a perfect opporuntiy for the Empire to slip in a spy completely unnoticed."

"I know, Ani. I mentioned that to General Madine and he said – "

Finding a huge, hairy arm suddenly in his path, Anakin had come to a sudden halt and Padme nearly ran into her husband's back. She looked around him to find a Wookie, apparently a very upset Wookie, howling at Anakin about something.

"Anakin?" she tried to break in, but her husband shushed her with a wave of his hand and continued to listen to the Wookie.

"I'm sorry, my friend. I haven't seen the boy you're describing. But I'm sure he's around here somewhere."

The Wookie waved his arms in the air, barked and whined, and at last stood with arms crossed, teeth slightly bared.

Padme didn't know all that much about this large alien's race, but decided he was in some way threatening Anakin. She pushed her way around her husband's frame and stood in front of him, a dark look on her face.

"Excuse me, but is there a problem here?" When the Wookie only woofed, and refused to say more (not that Padme understood enough to grasp what even that meant) she moved into a defensive position. "Anakin, what is going on here?!"

By now, half the hanger was watching them.

"Padme, calm down. This young Wookie friend here, Chewbacca, is merely looking for his human companion, a young man he describes as a pilot, a rascal and, at the moment, a teen on the verge of receiving a good dose of Wookie discipline. It would seem the kid skipped out on some chores earlier and hasn't been back to their ship since."

"Oh." Padme blushed, then apologized and retreated to Anakin's side.

The Wookie howled loudly, then barked repeatedly. Padme looked confusingly up at Skywalker, who nodded understandingly, then shook his head. "Well, he also apologizes for having scared you, but it seems he wants me to help him find the boy. I'm sorry, friend Chewbacca, but I just don't know what there is I can do. I'm restricted in using the Force by the High Command, so I can't offer much help there-"

"Chewie!"

A rather scraggily, roguish young man chose that moment to push his way through the crowd, heading in their direction. Anakin's first opinion of his wasn't a very high one, but he quickly revised it when the Wookie reached into the crowd (which was quickly threatening to engulf the young man as they went about their business now that the entertainment was over) and pulled the boy into a fierce hug. Chewbacca loudly admonished the boy for disappearing and what would he do if the kid had gotten hurt. Han, as the Wookie called him, had a large, crooked grin on his dirty, street face and gave his friend a quick squeeze before complaining and pulling out of the embrace.

"Ah, you big hairball. What's with all the gushiness, huh? I just went out to find us some food. Where were ya? I went back to the ship and you weren't there!"

The Wookie said something to the extent of where was the food and the teen shrugged. "Back at the ship, where else? I figured these rebels had locked you away or something. I wasn't going to go charging into the detention center with a blaster in one hand and a bantha sandwiche in the other."

The Wookie woofed in delighted agreement then turned and thanked Anakin for his time.

Upon seeing the former Sith, Han's eyes grew large, either with fright or awe, or maybe just disgust, Anakin wasn't sure. But before he could decide either way, or even speak to the young man, Chewbacca was pushing him off through the crowd, obviously with food on his mind.

When they were gone, Anakin sighed, and took his wife's hand in his. "It's been a trying day. I just want to go take a nap."

Padme chuckled. "You and the twins both, I'm sure. Alright, let's just – "

"Vader!"

Sighing, Anakin wished everyone could just go away, at least for a little while, and let him rest. The last thing he really wanted right now was a confrontation with another refugee or rebel like he had had with Jan Sollik. Was a nap too much to ask these days?

Releasing his wife's hand, Anakin turned expecting to see the angry and determined face of whomever it was who had called his name.

Instead, only a few meters away, there stood a figure Anakin wasn't quite sure he believed was really there. The armor was familiar. The stance, though he had only seen it from a distance. The feelings from the man were certainly the same, he concluded.

But it couldn't be Jango Fett, could it?

The crowd, which had already formed a while circle around both Anakin and Fett, quickly parted between them. Beings whispered, wondering at the sudden appearance of the bounty hunter. Families pushed their children behind them. Some of the more docile species quietly turned and left the hanger.

Anakin didn't blame them. He'd like to leave too.

This couldn't possibly be Jango Fett. The hunter had died on Geonosis, years ago, back when the Clone Wars had only just begun. But he wore Fett's armor. And he spoke wit a familiar voice. And then it dawned on Skywalker. Fett's son, Boba. Obi-wan and told the Jedi that Fett had had a son, a clone he had raised as his own.

So, this was who Palpatine had sent.

Skywalker's clenched fists tightened and his thoughts darkened. The Emperor had sent someone he knew his old apprentice would hesitate in fighting: a young man who, like Anakin, had suffered due to Palpatine's schemes. The boy no doubt had a burning grudge against the Jedi, just as Anakin had had against the Sand People after Shmi's death.

It is said that the mistakes we make a youth will eventually come back to haunt us, in the faces and the doings of young generations and we must confront them or fail a second time. Though Obi-wan had sworn this to be true, remembering his own time of leaving the Jedi and comparing it to Anakin's fall, Skywalker had never really thought he might one day encounter a similar replica of himself.

Well, he would have to make a choice now. He would have to either protect himself and conceivably his family as well, or spare the boy's life and try to talk some reason into him.

However likely that might be.

"Boba Fett." Anakin acknowledged the young hunter, bowing slightly. "The Emperor sent you?"

"He might have sent me," replied the angry voice from behind the mask, "but I came of my own choice."

Apparently he wasn't willing to discuss it any further, because the next instant Fett's blaster was in his hand and he was sending laser after scorching laser in Anakin's direction. Skywalker had his lightsaber out before anyone else could blink and the Force directed him in blocking the shots.

It was only after the first one sailed away that it dawned on Anakin that there were more than himself and Fett here in the hanger. There were hundreds of refugees, innocent people now running for any cover.

And Padme. She had been behind him. Where was she?

For one moment, Anakin nearly panicked, almost dropped the lightsaber from his hands. Padme! Was she hurt? Where had she gone?

He almost turned to search for his wife, lowering his defenses against Fett when Obi-wan's presence touched his mind with reassurance and he knew Padme was safe.

All this happened in nothing more than a split second, and the next, Anakin was fully focused on Boba Fett, now running straight toward the Jedi, blaster firing.

Anakin continued to block, falling back, away from Fett, hoping to put more distance between them. The bounty hunter was persistent and continued to his firing his guns, ducking the loose lasers that came his direction. Strangely enough, Anakin didn't know what to do. He didn't want to hurt the young man.

Fett had no such concerns where Skywalker was concerned.

In only a few moments, Anakin found himself pressed up against the bulk of a ship, the loose lasers scoring the underside of the vessel. Fett kept coming.

_Obi-wan_, he reached out through the Force. _I could use a little help here. I don't want to hurt the boy! What do I do?_

The reply was close, a reassuring touch. The next instant, Fett ducked as a blue lightsaber swept through their air an inch above his helmeted head. He quickly spun away, rolled and was behind a crate faster than his two enemies could move. Anakin was duly impressed. The young man was a warrior, that was for sure.

Now free to move away from the ship, still under fire from the bounty hunter, Anakin moved to place Fett between himself and Obi-wan. The other Jedi, also under heavy fire from Fett's second blaster, had moved behind a small fighter and was deflecting shots, also moving closer.

They would have to trap him in the open somehow. There wasn't anything else they could really do. Anakin feared if they cornered him, the boy might panic.

And Skywalker refused to use the Force to subdue Fett. So far, no one had been hurt and there was no need to use the Force directly.

_Attack his left! Now!_

Obi-wan agreed, and bade flashing, made a run for Fett. The bounty hunter quickly rose from his position behind the crates, firing as he backed away from the Jedi. Anakin too moved in, lightsaber at the ready.

There was a ship just behind them now, the rusted and bent up YT-1300 freighter Anakin remembered from having seen once before. As they backed the hunter up, Fett made a dive for the lowered ramp, hoping to find some momentary cover. He almost made it too, but a shot from a lower quad-laser turret, followed by the howl of a familiar Wookie, nearly singed the hunter's armor.

Fett cursed, but didn't waste a shot at the offending Wookie, and returned to attacking the Jedi.

Skywalker had used the momentary diversion to come around the landing gear of the craft, so Fett now had his back to him. Obi-wan, doing his best to keep the hunter's attention, continued to block the blaster shots and moved in as well.

They were both nearly to the hunter when Fett realized Skywalker's position and turned, preparing to fire. But the Force is faster than a gun and Anakin sent the bounty hunter's blasters sailing through the air.

Before he could reach for anything else, Anakin ripped the wrist blaster off Fett's arm, shut down his red lightsaber and before even Obi-wan could blink, had Fett physically off the ground and up against the hull of the ship. With one hand around the man's throat and another with the business end of his lightsaber pressed against the chest, Anakin successfully trapped Boba Fett between a rock and a hard place.

"Now," Anakin sighed, heart pumping and lungs gasping, but feeling fine, even invigorated. "Perhaps we can talk, just the two of us."

The bounty hunter was smart enough not to wiggle or fight as the former Sith help him but against the ship by physical strength alone, but he did reach up and grab at the hand clenched around his throat. Anakin released the pressure, not wanting to do any damage like he had with Sollik. The hunter's hands clenched into fists and the boy spat. "I've got nothing to say to you, Jedi. Sith, whatever the hell you are."

There was another Wookie howler and Chewbacca came striding down the ramp of his ship, asking if Skywalker needed any help in taking the bounty hunter apart piece by piece. To his credit, Fett didn't even flinch.

"No thank you, Chewbacca. I think I can handle this one."

Chewie roared then gave a Wookie laugh and started back up the ship. Han started down the ship, saying something about that hunter being the infamous Boba Fett and Vader must really be wanted for something. The Wookie casually wrapped an arm around the teen's waist, hoisted him, protesting, back into the ship.

He turned back to the young man and pressed the lightsaber hilt a little harder against the chest armor. "You don't have anything to say? Good, then you can just listen." Anakin eyed Fett, thinking he could almost see the boy's hard eyes staring back at him through the T-visor. "I know why you came here. I know why you think you have to do this. But you're wrong. You don't have to do this, Fett. The Jedi weren't responsible for your father's death. We weren't responsible for Jango's death."

"My father was outmatched, plain and simple!" Boba replied, the muscles in his arms straining as he fought the needed to struggle.

"Yes," Skywalker nodded. "He was. That's how he died. But not why. You don't understand, Fett. You couldn't possibly. You were too young at the time, and then you didn't have anyone left to tell you the truth. Jango was involved in something much bigger than just a mercenary deal. Something he couldn't possibly know the truth about. Just like you are now. And it got him killed. Now, you may find this hard to believe, but I don't want you to get killed over this. I know I sure as the Force don't want to be, either. This is all the Emperor's doing. He's just trying to destroy us both."

"You're full of bantha poodoo!" Fett replied angrily, but a part of him was thinking. He had always wondered if there hadn't been something more to the deal his father had with Count Dooku and the Separatists. If maybe, somewhere in there, his father had lost control of their situation and had ended up paying the price.

He might not like what he was hearing, but Fett respected Vader enough, or at least the stories he had heard about this killer of Jedi, to listen, if only a little. If the man, or whatever he was, started to make sense, Fett decided he just might be convinced to listen to more.

"Am I, Fett? Or do I know since I've been in a similar position? I was a servant of the Emperor, just like your father was. A meaningless pawn he could use or dispose of at his will. Palpatine used Jango to build a clone army for war. A war designed to tear the seams of the Old Republic apart, and specifically, to wear down and kill off Jedi. Jango didn't know anything about this, all he knew was he was making a living and earning food money without having to put his life on the line. He was protecting himself, and he was providing from his son."

Hearing it that way, it stung. Fett bit hit lip beneath his helmet, surprised at the rise of emotions. He had thought he had squashed every emotions he equated with his father, save the rage at his death.

Obi-wan, who had been standing at Anakin's side, listening, now nodded. "He's telling you the truth, Fett."

"Shut up, Jedi!" This time, Fett did struggle, trying to reach for a blaster he had forgotten wasn't there. Instantly, Anakin''s hand clenched around the hunter's throat, and didn't relax until Fett settled down. "I remember you. You were the Jedi who came to Kamino, and were there on Geonosis."

"Yes, I was. I, too was there because of Palpatine's manipulations. Just like your father."

Skywalker relaxed his grip on Fett's neck as he felt the threat pass. "Jango was a part of a larger scheme of Palpatine's. It had been in place for years. Decades even. Even Count Dooku was a pawn. As was Mace Windu, Obi-wan and myself. Everyone who was involved in the Clone War, in Geonosis, we were all pawns. Tricked into playing roles the Sith Lord set for us. Jango was on Geonosis that day because of Palpatine's schemes. He fought that day out of a committed loyalty he was unwilling to break. And he died because he fought, not against the Jedi, but unknowingly as pawn against pawn, like chess pieces on a board."

Fett had ceased even the smallest struggle. He had gone limp, listening. Anakin's voice, resonating from the mask, was rich and deep. It made him listen, think.

Anakin felt a great well of sympathy for the boy. It would have to be unbelievably hard, growing up without anyone who loved you. At least he had first had his mother, then Obi-wan to guide and care about him. True, he had failed them, but it was still good to know they had been there.

Fett. . . he had never had anyone after Geonosis.

"Fett, Jango and Mace Windu met each other in single combat. . . Mace simply emerged the victor. It was a fair fight. Your father died honorably after being bested. There's no shame in that."

Anakin wasn't expecting any real reply, so he was surprised when, after a few moments of silence, Fett nodded slightly.

Not quite sure what to do after that, Anakin looked to Obi-wan. The elder Jedi simply shrugged, indicating that Anakin should probably lower him to the ground. Skywalker agreed, placed the bounty hunter back on his feet, then stepped away.

Both kept their lightsabers at the ready.

The young man rubbed at his throat, where the fingers of the former Sith had left bruises, then at the gash on his arm, from where Skywalker had ripped off the wrist blaster. He stood before them, defenseless, blasters out of reach, and faced the Jedi.

"How do I know what you've said is true?"

"I guess you don't." Anakin replied. "I guess you just have to trust us. It will be a good exercise for you. Eventually, everyone has to trust someone."

If Fett considered this piece of advice, he did nothing to show it.

"Alright then. So what now? Have we come to a draw?"

"You might say that. Like I said, I don't really want to have to kill you, Fett. You're as much a pawn of the Emperor as I am. He was the one who sent you here. If and when he finds out you failed him, he'll be extremely displeased. I suggest you find somewhere to lie low."

The bounty hunter sneered beneath his helmet and slowly, keeping his hands in full view, bent down to pick up his discarded blasters. Anakin kept a firm grip on his saber. "I'm sure not staying here. I don't know what to believe. You're not like I've been told. So I don't know whether or not to believe you."

"You don't have to." Obi-wan replied. "Why don't you go ask your old employer, Count Dooku. I'm sure, if he survived the attack Palpatine planned against him, he could confirm what we've told you. Even if he's not alive, then you'll know the truth. Palpatine doesn't allow competition, critics or traitors in his new regime."

"You know if I find out you're lying, I'll be back."

Anakin smiled despite himself and nodded. "Yes, I would expect that. I would also expect you to be more prepared next time."

If Boba Fett took that little bit of creative criticism well or not, he didn't say anything either way. He simply picked up his blasters and headed for his ship.

The refugees watched him from the portholes, then turned to look back at the Jedi who, after seeing Fett off, retreated to their own vessel. The whispers were spreading like wildfire before the night shift.

Boba Fett had dueled with Darth Vader. And been allowed to live. . .

"Oh, Anakin!" Padme immediately wrapped her arms around her husband the instant he had climbed up the ramp of the Kyrat Dragon. "Oh, Ani, I was so worried!"

"It's alright, Angel." He leaned slightly against her, grateful for the respite. "No one got hurt, Fett's been given something to think about and Palpatine has one less pawn at his disposal. All and all, I think that's the best fight I've ever walked away from."

"Speak for yourself." Obi-wan chided. "My joints are killing me."

Sabé sighed, took the Jedi's hand and started pulling him out of the ship. "You'll have to excuse us, Padme, Anakin. Seems this old Jedi needs a hot shower to heal his aching bones and we don't want to waste the water on board."

Kenobi loudly expressed his displeasure at being called old as the handmaiden led him away.

Anakin, smiling, looked down at his wife. "In two hours, call the High Command Council. I think I have an idea for where we might take all these refugees and set up a Home base."

"Where?"

"Thanitinia."

"Anakin, that's wonderful! But, why in two hours?"

"Now I really need that nap."

* * *

Caslia


	20. The Emperor's Interference: Chapter 3

Chapter Four:

The Emperor's Interference

One year after Rebirth of the Light. . .

* * *

Two hours later, rested and feeling slightly more cheerful than before, Anakin met with the High Council. It felt like the millionth time Skywalker had been to the Council Chamber, and it wasn't lost on him how tense he always was when faced with the council members. Considering there were probably a large percentage of them gunning for him, it wasn't a surprise.

The only person in the room who wasn't even a little agitated was Obi-wan, standing serenely next to Anakin wrapped in his Jedi cloak, looking for all the world like the quiet, solemn Jedi Master everyone always pictured him to be.

Padme had wanted to come, but Anakin had suggested she stay and spend time with the children. It wasn't because he was worried and didn't want her there if there was trouble. It was just neither of them had been able to spend a lot of time with Luke and Leia in the past week. It would be nice for their mother to have a few hours with them, undisturbed by matters of command.

And if the council agreed to Anakin's suggestion, they may very well have to prepare to leave soon.

As expected, the first exchange wasn't so much a meeting as it was another trial session. Members of the council demanded to know why Jedi Kenobi had given Anakin Skywalker (they had yet to regonize him by the title of Jedi, even though Obi-wan had explained to them Yoda had bestowed it upon him again. But Anakin wasn't quite comfortable about it himself) back his Sith lightsaber. What had Boba Fett been doing here? Did they know how many lives they had endangered by starting a fight? Mon Mothma and Bail sat by quietly, their faces unreadable. They never said a word, but Anakin took that to be a good thing.

After nearly an hour and a half of accusations, questions and explanations (done mostly by Obi-wan, as some of the councilors still refused to take Anakin's word on anything), even the most aggressive of the members were forced to give up. They didn't have anything to condemn him for: no one had been hurt, nothing destroyed, the fight wasn't their fault in the first place, and Fett had left peacefully.

Obi-wan, by now more bored than annoyed, stepped forward to speak. "Councilors, if I may. If you have asked all your questions concerning the incidents of earlier today involving the bounty hunter, perhaps we could get to the point of just why we asked to meet with the council."

"Of course, General Kenobi," General Madine, one of Mothma's supporters and a member who had not taken part in the accusations, nodded encouragingly at Anakin. "Skywalker?"

"Thank you, General." Despite their having been rather...understanding, about the attack and his part in it, Anakin had little doubt that trying to convince the council he knew of a secure planetary location for Home One would be a test all its own. "Councilors, as you are well aware, the Medical Frigate is overflowing with refugees and new volunteers. So are all the over ships in your fleet. The Alliance cannot possibly hope to care for all these beings, provide them with the required necessities, and still maintain a tight security against Imperials spies. You need a base, a secure, isolated planetary base to act as Home One separate from the fleet."

The Wookie councilor barked at Anakin and before his droid could translate, Anakin replied, "I know this is not news to you, which is why I believe you will be willing to consider my offer. I know of a planet that would suit your needs. And it is not an inhospitable place. And since time is of the essence, it is conveniently close."

"And where might this...utopia" Mon Mothma smirked at the use of the term, "be found, Jedi Skywalker."

"Thanitina, a planet I myself had never even heard of, until the search for my wife and children began a year ago." Force, had it really been that long? Anakin was amazed when he realized another entire year had passed without his realizing, and how the events of that year once again changed his life. "It is in the Outer Rim, near the Unknown Region of space. There is no imperial influence for many systems. The inhabitance are few, a human race that lives mostly on one small continent."

"They are more than willing to allow us whatever land we will require," Obi- wan added. "So long as we do not intrude upon the land they had already claimed and built upon. They had no alliances, except to their High Lord. Master Yoda and I have his trust. I am sure he would be willing to allow us to build a base upon his world, somewhere in the low country, away from his people and their farms."

"I see." Mothma looked to the other councilors, some of whom nodded. Others frowned, not liking the offer, considering the source. "Jedi Kenobi, correct me if I am wrong but is this not the planet where Padme sought refuge from the Empire?"

"Exactly, Councilor. Which is why it is the perfect planet for Home One. She remained there, undetected by the Empire –"

"By the Empire, yes." Madine interrupted, nodding toward Skywalker. "But not by her husband. If I recall correctly, Jedi Skywalker claimed to have sought and found his wife easily on Thanitinia. Should the Emperor, a Sith Master, not have an even easier time of discovering the Alliance base there, should he be looking for it?"

Obi-wan hesitated, then looked to Anakin for an answer. He still wasn't quite sure how Anakin had found him and Padme on Thanitinia a year ago. They had been protected and hidden from the Force by Master Yoda, in the farthest reaches of the galaxy. And yet, somehow, the Sith Lord had tracked them down, walked in as though he had always know he would find them in that tiny cottage.

The Jedi Knight had never asked Anakin how he had been able to find them; he had simply decided that if it was one of those secrets his former apprentice wished to keep, he would not press him on the matter. A matter of privacy, as it was. Obi-wan was sure if it was something he had needed to know, his friend would have told him.

He didn't like the thought of Anakin being required to explain his mystical journey to a gaggle of politicians, especially since some of them would just rather sign Skywalker's death warrant and be done with it. But lacking any of excuse or explanation, he would have to turn the question over to Anakin.

But Skywalker wasn't as hesitant as his friend. He shrugged a shoulder in a way that, as a younger man, would have made him look cocky. "Padme is my wife, and we have a strong connection to each other. And also, I think, the Force was guiding me, leading me toward her. Toward my own redemption."

"And. . . the Emperor has no such connection to his former servant?"

Anakin wanted to say no. He wanted to say that he and Palpatine had no powerful bonds, nothing that could lead the Emperor to his family. But he didn't know if that was true or not.

As a Jedi apprentice, he and Obi-wan had had a bond, one of Padawan and Master. It had been severed that day on Sullest, and they had both thought the spiritual thread between them cut. But something had remained, a strong and deep-rooted friendship that had lasted, somehow, through the Darkness. Anakin learned he hated Kenobi because he had loved him to the brink of utter devotion, a 

bond, unlike the one he shared with Padme, but just as eternally binding. The feelings of betrayal had turned that love to bitter hatred, thinking the love rejected. Having discovered the connection remained, though corrupted; Anakin had used it, along with the birth of the twins, as a sort of rope to pull himself out of the depths of Darkness.

Did he and the Emperor share a similar bond?

He hated and feared the Emperor, but feared him in awe and hated him with envy for his power. He had loved him once, too. Loved him because he inspired both that fear and awe, both the hatred and the envy. It was the kind of emotions, Anakin imagined, every great or powerful leader inspired in their subjects.

And the Emperor felt the same way about his former servant as well. Had always felt that way, since he and the young, newly-freed slave boy had met, which is why he felt the need to subjugate and be able to manipulate Anakin. Though Palpatine was well skilled in the Darkside and its Arts, he knew Anakin Skywalker, as the Chosen One, had far more power when it came to the Force.

It was not the bond of Master and apprentice they shared, or even that of friends. Rather, it is the kind of bond a loving and loyal dog might have for an abusive master. The master might beat the dog, but everything he called; the canine would come running, tag wagging to accept a biscuit. But earn disapproval and it would be set away, tail between its legs.

Yes, that had been his relationship with the Emperor. But had it been strong enough to forge a bond between them in the Force? Had the Emperor twisted Anakin's mind enough he had planted a probe in his thoughts, so he might find his powerful servant where ever he went?

Anakin prayed not.

"I'm afraid I don't know the answer to that, councilor." Anakin admitted, feeling suddenly vulnerable in front of these people again. "It has been many, many months since I've felt the Emperor's presence in my mind. I would like to think, since turning away from using the Darkside, that he had no longer feel me. But I don't know for sure." There was a rustling among the Council now, as members turned to speak softly with one another, sharing worried glanced. Anakin quickly continued, "But if for even one moment I thought Palpatine was reaching out to me, I would let Master Kenobi know. And then I would gather my things and go. You forget, my wife and children are a part of the Rebellion now, as am I. I would do nothing to put them in danger."

"You understand, Jedi Skywalker, all of this does very little to credit your suggestion for a planetary base for Home One." The Wookie councilor growled in his native tongue.

Anakin bowed but made no reply.

"Very well then." Mothma nodded, after obtaining agreement from her fellow councilors. "You are excused, Jedi Skywalker. We will discuss your suggestion. In the meantime, we request you return the lightsaber to Master Kenobi and continue to limit your access to the Force while you remain with the fleet." The Jedi bowed and turned to leave the conference room. A Bith councilor leaned over and quickly whispered in Mon's ear. She nodded and cleared her throat. "Ah, Master Kenobi. If you wouldn't mind staying behind for a moment."

Obi-wan raised a questioning eyebrow, but nodded and moved to stand off to the side. Anakin left without his friend.

When the door slide shut behind the former Sith, the usual murmurings of the aids and a few of the councilors filled what had been awkward silence. Feeling uneasy about Skywalker having been asked 

to leave and his staying behind, but knowing it had probably been for the best, Obi-wan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He hated having to exclude his friend.

After a moment or two of quiet exchanges, Mon Mothma held up a hand, asking for silence. When everyone in the room, down to the last aid and recording droid, had complied, she lowered her hand and placed them together on the table, staring across the room at the Jedi Master. The other occupants, following the young woman's example, stilled.

"And now, Master Kenobi, we will begin discussion of young Skywalker's future, of the Rebellion's future, in fact, what could quite possibly be the future of this very galaxy. . . "

* * *

Caslia


	21. The Emperor's Interference: Chapter 4

Surprisingly, this was a very short chapter. Probably because most of the action, which happened between Fett and the Jedi was all crammed into one post. Ah well, after this post, moving on.

* * *

Chapter Four:

The Emperor's Interference

One year after Rebirth of the Light. . .

* * *

Obi-wan left the council meeting feeling surprisingly bitter. It didn't show on his face, but it was there, turning his mood sour.

A year ago, he wouldn't have been feeling this way, but time changes things, and people. Yes, obi-wan thought, time changes things, but some things always remain the same.

Irritated and depressed, wondering what Anakin would say, he made his way toward the ship that now served as their quarters, fully intending to meditate on the matter and release some of the negative emotions. He knew he should have simply accepted what the Council had said. Anakin himself had already made the decision.

It was just so typical.

The Jedi forced his way through the crowded halls toward the main hanger, apologizing when he nearly shoved someone over. It was a relief that the Council would probably accept Anakin's offer to set up Home One base on Thanitina. Still more and more refugees were coming in, hoping to join the Rebellion and fight beside the noble Lord Vader, former servant of the Sith.

The thought only increased Kenobi's bitter mood.

Just wanting some peace and quiet, and some room to himself, Obi-wan was grateful when no one stopped him. He hoped he would be the only one on board the Kyrat Dragon. Padme would be in the meeting now, discussing whether or not Thanitina would be a suitable base and Sabé and the twins would be in former senator's state room.

Making it to the hanger, Obi-wan sighed in relief and keyed the ship, stepping aside when the ramp lowered. He climbed aboard, sealed it shut and listened to the wonderful sound of silence.

"Long day?" Anakin asked from behind Obi-wan, humor hidden in his words.

Kenobi sighed, relaxed and shook his head. "Be glad they let you leave, my friend. I stood there for three hours and listened to them debate. Why the Jedi Masters of old ever got involved in politics, I'll never know. We could have all just remained monks in a temple somewhere."

Skywalker shrugged, not liking the idea. "Sounds boring."

"To you maybe." Kenobi rolled his shoulders and pushed past his friend down the corridor toward the small kitchenette. It had been a long day. He'd had a minor argument with Sabé in the morning, fought with a bounty hunter around noon, changed diapers while Anakin had his nap and finally, faced down the council for the rest of the afternoon. A rather busy schedule for a man who was supposed to be retired. "I'm going to get a cup of tea."

"Sound delightful." Anakin's sarcasm was short lived. "So, was the meeting confidential, or are you going to tell me what it was they ranted at you about for so long?"

"Oh, nothing we don't already know." The Jedi started opening cabinets, searching. "Just the usual. Can he be trusted? Is the information accurate? What ifs and what can be gained and what are the risks." Annoyed, Obi-wan slammed shut another cabinet door and reached up top. Anakin placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Here, sit down. I'll do it."

Grateful, feeling exhaustion from the long day begin to take hold, Obi-wan sat at the little space table and closed his eyes. "That's all just politics. I expected it, was partially prepared. But now, some of the councilors have begun to hear rumors from some of the refugees. Rumors of a prophecy. A prophecy of a Chosen One who is destined to bring Balance."

Pouring the water into the teapot to boil, Anakin raised his head but didn't say anything. Obi-wan shrugged, his bitterness returning.

"The councilors wanted to know if I knew anything about it. Seems some of them feel that if you're no longer a Sith, and can be trusted, you should be expected to fulfill the prophecy and rid them of the Emperor. They wanted to know my thoughts on the matter, as your Guardian."

"Naturally. And as my Master. Again."

If there was any emotion other than concerned interest behind that last word, Obi-wan didn't hear it. It had been a concern of his, again playing master to Anakin. He had wondered if it was the right choice, seeing as he had already failed his friend once. But Anakin seemed comfortable with the thought, even willing. They hadn't started lessons as of yet, and Obi-wan still worried what would happen when they did.

He nodded, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "Yes, and that too. Telling them that Master Yoda had given you the title of Jedi again reassured them. They like the idea of there being Jedi in the galaxy again, of warriors trained to fight against the Darkness."

"They want heroes to fight their battles for them." Having heated the tea and brought it to a boil, Anakin poured the steaming water on the tea leaves and let it sit in the cup, staring into the green depths. He sighed, wishing he had the power to see what message was there for him.

"Darth. . .sooner or later, it would have happened. People have always looked up to the Jedi, especially in times of need. I know this is yet another burden for you. . ." Force, it was. Now not only was Yoda expecting Anakin to train and fulfill the prophecy, but now the rebels were whispering of a hero whose destiny was to save them all. It had been burdens and expectations as well as fears and failures that had driven Anakin from the Jedi in the first place.

Obi-wan knew he should have faith in his friend, in Anakin's strength of will to not allow these expectations and hopes to weigh on him. But they had destroyed him once, not so long ago. . .

"No, you're right." Anakin agreed, bringing the still steaming cup over to the table and sitting down. He passed the tea over and Obi-wan drank, feeling the warm, sweet liquid and Anakin's calm presence wash away the bitterness he had felt when first hearing of the these new hopes. "They look up to us and look for our protection. Not because they can't help themselves; just look at the Alliance. Because this iis/i something they can't fight alone. The Emperor is powerful." Sighing, the Jedi looked down at his gloved hands, momentarily clenched. "Sometimes. . ."

Raised eyebrows from Obi-wan encouraged him to continue. "Sometimes, I feel I'm not, anymore. The Darkside made me feel strong, unstoppable."

Over the rim of his cup, Obi-wan watched his friend, cautious and concerned. Swallowing, he had a strange thought. "Do you. . .miss it?"

Anakin shrugged, uncomfortable. "Miss isn't really the right word. I don't regret turning from the Darkside. But there are times when I'm tired of feeling afraid or weak. . .or guilty. Times I just want to be sure again." Looking ashamed of himself, Skywalker had to force himself not to squirm in his seat like a little padawan confessing his worries to his master.

Despite the seriousness, Obi-wan found himself chuckling. Setting down the cup, he gave his friend's fisted hands a warm squeeze. "It's alright, Anakin. Everyone feels that way now and again. Everyone feels bitter every once in a while as well. It's only natural, I guess."

"But for a Jedi?"

The older Knight shrugged. "Who knows? Qui-gon would have said all of our emotions are what keeps us alive, being humans as well as being Jedi, connecting us to the Living Force. Just don't let these things wear on you, Ani. Or people's expectations of you. Alright?"

"Yeah. . .alright."

* * *

It wasn't until some time in the late hours of the night, or maybe by about that time, it was the early hours of the morning, that Padme snuck back to the room she shared with Sabé and the twins. The corridors of the Medical Frigate had quieted down and people had found a place to sleep. Some were still curled in corners, hugging belongings, while others had been offered room in quarters by pilots and crewmen.

Had it not been for little Luke and Leia, Padme would have insisted the rebels give the large state room to a family in need of the space. But it was times like these she was grateful for the privacy and the quiet the Council honored her with, grateful for the chance to be away from everything but her little family.

All she wanted after this meeting was sleep, a time to rest and get away from all the politics.

But Sabé was awake, waiting for Padme when she entered the bedroom of their suite.

Taking a quick glance to make sure her children were sleeping soundly, grateful they now slept through most of the night, the former senator moved to sit beside her friend on the bed.

"My lady," Padme gave a tired smile as Sabé helped her lower her hair and remove her fancy dress. "A long meeting?"

"Long meeting, long day. Long war. Oh, Sabé" She groaned, falling back on the bed. "How much longer is this going to last? Wait, don't answer that. I really don't want to know."

"One day at a time, Padme." With a small smile, the handmaiden rose and hung the beautiful senate dress, rarely worn these days, in the closet and quietly shut the door. She turned and braced against the closet, watching her weary friend.

Padme had been through a lot. And yet, she was still holding up, holding on, somehow. Despite the fall of their government, the problems with her husband, and the trials of pregnancy and children, Padme still looked young and beautiful, still had energy and love of life.

She may no longer be a queen or a senator, but she was still under imaginable stress.

And she still needed Sabé.

"Padme?" Her friend raised the arm covering her eyes at the tone of her friend's voice, immediately concerned. "One of General Madine's aides stopped by just after you left for the meeting. He wanted to talk with me about joining the general's staff."

Intrigued, Padme sat up and scrutinized her friend. "Go on."

Shrugging, Sabé gnawed on her bottom lip. "He said the general was aware of my former duties in your service, had done some review of my skills and missions. He...the aide...he asked me if I didn't think I was wasting my abilities here." Uncomfortable, seeing the hurt in her friend's eyes, Sabé jumped forward and took Padme's hands in hers. "Not that I feel I am! I love taking care of the twins and being with you! We've been together for so long, I can hardly imagine another life."

"And yet. . ." Padme, her eyes sad, gave the handmaiden's hands a squeeze.

Nodding, Sabé returned the show of sympathy and love. "And yet. . ."

"Well then," she sighed. "What does the general suggest?"

"I'm told he wants to make an offer. Madine wants to train a team of expert agents for the Rebellion, some to teach, some to police for Imperial agents and some to run missions for the Alliance. I could do it, Padme! I always was the best of the handmaidens, the one with the most training. I could really do this, really make a difference!"

Seeing the joy in her friend, the hope, Padme nodded. Inside, there was a pain at the thought of them parting ways, but she understood. It wasn't right she pursue her dream of making a difference through politics and having a family, and not let Sabé do the same, however she choose to do so. Besides, this would be good for all of them. It would be the excuse she needed to begin backing away from politics. She could spend more time with her children.

And Obi-wan could use the break.

"Of course, Sabé. This is a wonderful opportunity for you. I am, truly, happy for you."

Reassured, Sabé smiled but didn't let go. Padme waited, knowing after so many years of friendship there was something else. "Padme. . .you know not everyone is happy with Anakin's return."

So, Padme thought, here it is again.

"Yes, I know. . .is General Madine one of them?"

Sabé shrugged, clearly undecided. "I don't quite know yet. Despite all the whispers of prophecy and the increased number of volunteers thanks to you and Anakin, some of the leaders and council members would still rather have it that your husband was not with the fleet."

"But he's training to be a Jedi again. The Council has approved."

"It's not only Anakin. . .they're edgy around Obi-wan as well." Despite the seriousness of the concerns, Padme could see how the mere mention of the Jedi Master's name brought quietly shining stars into Sabé's eyes. Padme hid her smile with worry over her husband.

"There are still many who blame the Jedi for the fall of the Republic." Sabé explained, sitting beside her friend. "Now, there is a Jedi Master with influence upon the Council, and a former Sith and servant of the Emperor walking freely among Alliance members."

"So in short," Padme thought aloud, "the volunteers and the pilots and crew and everyone love Anakin Skywalker, looking to him for strength and courage, no matter how much he wishes they wouldn't. And the leaders of the Alliance, at least some of them, either fear or despise him. . .this just gets better and better, doesn't it."

Yet another reason for Sabé to join the general's staff, so as to keep her ears and eyes open to any threat to their family. If things got much worse among the council members, the Skywalker family might be forced to abandon the Rebellion.

But where would they go then?

Sighing, the handmaiden reached out and wrapped her arms around her friend, holding her close. Padme rested her head on the other's shoulders and closed her eyes. She was so tried of this life.

"Is there no good news?"

"Thank the Force, yes. The Council has agreed to begin the preparations for negotiations with the Thanatians. Hopefully, within a few weeks, Home One may very well be a stationary planet base."

"At least there's that. You and Anakin can take the children and settle down somewhere, have a real home at last." And she and Obi-wan just might have a chance as well now.

As if she could read her mind, Padme grinned and said, "Not only Ani and I. How are things going with that Jedi Master of yours."

"He's being extremely hardheaded about this. At the moment, he seems to think he's evaded me. We'll see about that."

Laughing, Padme gave her friend another hug and rose to prepare for bed. She would only have a few hours to sleep, then she needed to be up again. For now, she could rest.

"I'm sure we will, my friend. That Jedi doesn't know what he's in for."

But Sabé wasn't so sure. If she did eventually accept the general's offer after Home One was established on Thantinia, would she ever have time for a family of her own?

* * *

It was nearly five weeks before Home One was established, some seventy miles from the cottage in which the Skywalker twins had been born. Seeing that the invaders had no interest in influencing their peoples or culture, the Thanatians simply shrugged and agreed to the Alliance's requests.

With the help of the local people and the tech crews, the Alliance constructed bases and homes out of the naturally occurring caves and tunnels found in the southern hills of the planet. Some of the cave openings were so large, they had no problem hiding their ships and fighters within. The dry earth was ideal of crafting and molding to their needs.

In almost no time, the rebels, new and veterans; were evacuated from the depleted ships and carriers to the hobbit homes.

The local people welcomed them. The land was fertile and provided food far better than rebel rations. And the sun brought hope to those who had begun to feel the strain of war.

Padme resigned her position as a minor councilor member. Mon and Bail were disappointed, but understood why. When explained this would mean she and her family would return to their cottage they had bought from a local, many of the councilors expressed their relief.

The pilots, Salik among them, sent Anakin and his family away with well wishes.

Sabé waited till Padme and Anakin moved back to the cottage and settled in. Despite his continued protests the couple should live alone and he could find his own place, Obi-wan moved in with them, due mainly to Anakin packing and moving all of the master's belonging with his own.

He was, Anakin explained to his friend, a part of the family, not a house guest.

Obi-wan finally gave in when some of the locals from a nearby village, having heard the family had returned, offered to extend the house to include the new members. The little cottage grew to contain two more bedrooms, a study for Padme, primitive water and sewage system they called indoor plumbing and a landing pad.

They even offered to help Anakin construct a room he could move his oxygen chamber into for convenience but he declined. Instead, he had them change it into a meditation room. Considering all the work they'd done, Obi-wan surrenders and agreed to move in.

They were outside, keeping an eye on the twins when Anakin took the next step.

"It's about time, Obi-wan. I don't think we can wait any longer to begin my training again." Obi-wan raised an eyebrow but remained silent, as was his wont these past few weeks. "Palpatine is only getting more powerful as the weeks pass. Soon, we may no be able to confront him. His strength in the Force is already double my own. If we cover the basics, meditation, levitation, concentration, then we should be able to begin lightsabers in a few days."

"Moving fast, wouldn't you say?"

Anakin didn't want to appear impatient. Not when that was the very reason he had ruined his training the first time. But he was. He wanted his power back, wanted to be able to defeat the Emperor. More importantly, he wanted the Force back.

For so long now he had lived almost without it. He had been careful when touching the Force, fearful of the Darkside, of the dangers, of allowing Palpatine to find him. Anakin wanted to be able to touch the Force again as a Jedi, to feel the Light course through his. The sooner he learned, the sooner he conquered both his fears and the Emperor.

And his past.

"But. . ." Obi-wan allowed, leaning back in the grass, "maybe you're right, Anakin." He reached out with the Force and gently pushed Leia away from a spot she might trip and fall. Skywalker looked on enviously. "We do need to begin your training again. No, wait. Don't think of it as training. Think of it as a...refresher course. A reminder. And you're not alone in this. I, too, need to go back over some of the finer points. If we're to be ready to fight. And to teach."

Anakin began to spoke, then paused, mouth open and starred at his friend. "Teach?"

"Of course. Anakin, who did you think would teach your children and any Jedi apprentices Yoda finds to be Knights? Him? You and I are the next generation, my friend. It is our duty."

Skywalker laughed, a hollow, rattling sound in the helmet. "Me, teach? Obi- wan, you can't seriously consider that a good idea, can you?"

"Well, we'll have to see. But, we're getting ahead of ourselves here. Let's start at the beginning. . .with meditation and inner reflection."

Groaning, hearing a lesson coming, Anakin got comfortable.

* * *

New chapter beginning next time, Lightsabers! Yeah!

So, how is everyone's summer?

Caslia


	22. Lightsabers: Chapter 1

* * *

This Sabé/Obi scene came from a TJM idea that I only now was able to add. I love these type of scenes because they're like a wake-up call for me. They remind me that even though these characters I'm dealing with are heroes and Jedi and fabulous Star Wars characters, they're also people, who would have had real problems and real concerns, beyond the whole 'gotta save the galaxy' thing that they do.

So, even as short as these Sabé/Obi scene is, I really had fun getting to write it. Let me know whatcha think.

* * *

Chapter Five:

Lightsabers

Two years and seven months after _Rebirth of the Light_. . .

* * *

The time Anakin spent on Thantinia relearning the Jedi ways with Obi-wan was the most peaceful time he had known since the years he had spent with Padme on Naboo following their marriage. Only two weeks after having settled in, he felt comfortable and safe in the little cottage and worried less and less about the Empire discovering them.

In this beautiful new life, Anakin was surprised to find his zest for living had returned, rekindled after all those months of having been snuffed out by Darkness, despair and, admittedly, guilt. His wife even jested he was showing more of his mischievous self these past two weeks than she had seen for some time.

As much as his old habits were rising to the surface and Anakin was recognizing more of his old self, Obi-wan continued to praise him on his patience.

They had been somewhat optimistic to think they could cover so many years of Jedi training in so little time. They were still on meditation and proper conduct of emotions by the time they had estimated to be well into lightsaber practice. But the threat of the Emperor and his darkness seemed far from this serene planet and the life they were building for themselves.

In fact, the rebels seemed to feel the same, as the usual frenzy of build defenses had slowed; so distant from the core of the galaxy and the Imperials, they had become somewhat slack. If the Council was concerned, the Skywalkers never heard anything about it. They were told little of anything, despite Padme's former position.

They were to be Jedi, nothing more.

"I agree mostly with the Council's view of us," Obi-wan said to his friends one night as they sat at table, a squirming Leia in his arms refusing to eat her mushed greens. A pensive Luke reclined in his father's arms.

"Care to explain?"

"They still equate the corruption within the Jedi Order to the collapse of the Republic. It only seems fair that, at least for now, they are wary of us. It's part of their self-preservation. Eventually, they'll begin to see they can trust us."

"Trust _you_, at least. I don't think anyone on the council, save for Mothma and maybe Organa, will ever completely trust me." Frowning, Anakin coaxed a spoon into his son's mouth. Luke regarded his father, then willing took it.

Leia scrunched up her nose and spit hers back out, into Obi-wan's lap. "I know what you mean," the Jedi told the little girl, "this stuff is pretty disgusting." He'd gotten a mouthful earlier. He gently wiped her face with a marginally clean cloth.

"Here, Obi-wan," laughing, Padme reached for her squirming daughter. "Let me take her before she ruins your last good robe."

The Jedi tightened his arms around the little girl and pulled away, a strange expression crossing his face. "That's okay. I've got her. I can just wash my clothes out later." Surprised, Padme nodded and leaned back as Leia snuggled up to her uncle.

"The others will come around, Anakin. I think most of them realize how much more difficult this would be if we didn't have you on our side. At least this way, we're only fighting one Sith, not two."

"Palpatine is a Sith _Master_, Obi-wan! He's so much more powerful in the Darkside than I probably ever could have been. Besides, he would never have allowed me to be his equal." Pensive, he handed his little son to his silent wife. "The Emperor would never have trusted me. I would have been his slave, not his apprentice."

The former Sith sighed deeply; Obi-wan and Padme exchanged glances.

"Things I wish I had known two years ago."

"We all have things we deeply regret, Anakin." Obi-wan reached to lay a comforting hand on his friend's, smiling sadly. It was returned, he knew.

Over a time, he and Padme had learned to read their friend's body language: the tilt of the head, the movement, or lack, of the hands. It was easier, reading him with the Force, but Kenobi did his best to grant Skywalker the privacy he needed.

Now, he thought to break that rule for a moment. He glanced again at Padme and received an affirming nod.

"Padme, if you don't mind us leaving you with the twins, I think I'd like to go for a walk for a little while. Anakin? Care to join me?"

The Jedi nodded absently, rose and set Luke in his feeding chair. The boy stared up, wide-eyed at the interruption of his usual father-son time. Anakin cupped his child's face in his glove and cooed softly.

"I'll be back in a few minutes, Luke."

Reassured, the boy turned back to stuffing mashed potatoes into his mouth, tiny hands and all. Leia watched her brother curiously. Smiling at his two beautiful children, Anakin followed his former master outside into the fading daylight.

They walked for a time away from the cottage, passing beneath the great oak tree then out into the rolling, grassy hills. In the pink and blue sunset, the grass looked like a dark sea rolling away into the distance. The wind blew strongest at night on Thantinia, clearing the sky of clouds so the stars always shown brightly. It was peaceful, caught between dusk and nightfall, in the silence of this world.

Obi-wan stood, hands behind his back, watching the night approaching on the evening breeze. He waited quietly as Anakin made his way over, a great shadow of darkness against the fading light.

The times were less and less he was reminded of his friend's handicaps, of his imprisonment within the armor. And if it still bothered Skywalker to be so separated from his family, he never said so. But standing here, breathing in the rising tide of night, Obi-wan pitied Anakin. And hated himself for it, knowing that was the last thing the former Sith needed. He squashed the unwanted emotions, less Anakin should discover them.

Anakin stepped up beside his friend and looked out over the hills. He didn't offer to share his thoughts.

"Anakin. . . " He hesitated, knowing he had to ask, that they had to face this obstacle, but at the same time, longed to do nothing but let it fade away with the daylight. The mask turned toward him, inquisitive, waiting. If his breath shook when he breathed in, Obi-wan blamed it on the chill wind that blew at his robes.

"You know when we. . . when we first. . . when the Council agreed to my being your master, after Master Qui-gon died. . . and we tried to form a bond. A Master-Padawan bond. It was difficult. It took a lot of time, for us."

Nodding slowly, Anakin waited. To speak of the bond between a master and Padawan, especially one that had been so tender and fragile, was a very intimate matter. For Obi-wan, it was awkward, embarrassing, almost.

"We weren't really close and didn't know each other well. And Qui-gon had only just. . . passed." Taking a deep breath, the Jedi forced himself to keep going, wishing he didn't have to ask this. To open old wounds, to suggest a lack of trust. But he couldn't back down now. "There were things between us, Ani. Things that made it difficult for the two of us to really have a true bond, for a long time, anyway."

"And you're worried it's the same now?"

Anakin's question was confused, but attempting to be understanding. Obi-wan's laugh was unsteady, but it released a little of the tension.

"Yes. . . yes, I am. Anakin, I. . . " he sighed, struggling for the right words, not wanting to hurt either of them. "There's just so much between us now. So much that has happened. And I _want_, more than _anything_, to be the teacher you deserve, Anakin. And a friend that you feel you can turn to through all of this. I want to _be_ there for you, like I never was before. But, I need to know. . . is there anything. . . anything. . . "

Understanding dawned and Anakin smiled, laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. He couldn't help but love Obi-wan, seeing the emotions swimming in his eyes. He was so concerned, but so willing to trust.

It was comforting for Anakin to know he would never, ever again abuse that trust. Never make Obi-wan suffer for allowing himself to become vulnerable and open up to those he cared about.

"No, Obi-wan. No more Tusken raiders, no more dark secrets. Plenty of regrets, though. It's all right, my friend. We're okay, you and I."

Obi-wan sighed, relieved, and smiled in the fading light. If Anakin said that they were okay, then they were. There was nothing left either blamed the other for, no hidden anger or grief, no misunderstanding to come between them this time.

"Thank you."

"No, Obi-wan. Thank _you_. I hate to think what might have happened, if I had listened to Yoda, and not you that day. If I had left. Look how far we've come in everything. And soon," and here, there was a note of wistfulness in his friend's voice Obi-wan was able to catch, surprised. "soon, I will be able to freely touch the Force again, free of the Darkness. You've given me that, Obi-wan."

No one said anything for a long time, they just stood and watched the sun set and the night rise to replace it. The stars came out, one by one, till the clouds were all blown away and nothing but a thousand twinkling diamonds filled the sky.

It looked like space, only warm and comforting from down here.

When at last they turned to go in, Anakin spoke softly in the darkness. "Obi-wan . . ." The other Jedi looked his way, saw the tilt of the mask and the pause in the rhythmic breathing. It was, he realized, a bittersweet moment. "I would like it very much if. . . it would be an honor to. . . to have the bond between us restored."

Obi-wan drew in a breath, then let it would slowly, smiling. Nothing, he knew, had ever touched him as deeply, save that moment in the little cottage when, with newborn babe in arm, his friend has asked for his help, for his understanding. Speechless, he nodded.

Anakin nodded silently in return.

* * *

It was a few weeks later Padme received a message from Home One and called Anakin in from meditation. "Ani! You have a message from Jan Solik."

Smiling, Skywalker passed his wife in the hall and paused. Gently, he ran his gloved fingertips along her cheek, his way of showing affection. Laying a hand over his, Padme nestled momentarily into his hand, as if she could feel his love there, then pulled back and sent him on his way.

Such was how it had come to be between them.

The message was a short holo record from the pilot, briefly informing the Jedi of the recent advances the rebellion had made and areas their expertise might be useful. She was looking better, these past months since her encounter with the Dark Lord seeming to have greatly transformed her. Jan smiled more often; a comfort to Anakin who had caused her so much pain.

"Oh, and one more thing, before I forget. Your wife's former handmaiden, Sabé, asked me to let you know she just returned from a mission and would come by for a quick visit tonight. I hope everything is going well with you, Skywalker, and that the twins are behaving themselves."

There was that sweet smile again, then she bowed and was gone. Anakin frowned as he deactivated the holo. So, Sabé was coming.

Of his three companions, it was Sabé he had had the least amount of time with. To heal the wounds between them. True, they had never been very close in the first place. But the young woman had been so understanding about her lady's choice of husband. Had helped them keep their secret, had been there throughout all Anakin had put Padme through in the last years of their marriage before his turning.

He had yet to really apologize to her for that, to express his regret over how he had treated her.

Anakin winced, pushing back the vision of his near rape of Padme, of his slamming Sabé into the wall and nearly burning her as he used his saber to slice off her beautiful length of hair.

Well, perhaps now he would have a little time to tell her these things. Though she had been sweet to him since his redemption, Anakin didn't doubt there were things between them. She might not be willing to see him.

* * *

Sabé was here to see the family.

And Obi-wan, Anakin thought with a mischievous gleam in his eye. He couldn't be happier for his friend. He only wished Kenobi would get over himself and just admit he had feelings for the young woman.

Obi-wan always had been stubborn when it had come to how he felt about others, especially women. Some of the Jedi had once told Anakin that there had, in fact, been girls in Obi-wan's past. One of them, a Jedi herself, had no doubt died in the Purge, but apparently she and a younger Kenobi had fallen away.

Another, unknown by many, had been a young warrior on some war-torn planet. Apparently, Obi-wan had even _left_ the Jedi Order to fight beside her. Ironic, Anakin thought, looking at himself and Padme. But the girl had died, or so he had been told. And Obi-wan had been accepted by Qui-gon back into the order. Whatever was the real story, Anakin wasn't sure. But he didn't dare ask his former master about it.

Considering his own mistakes, he had no place asking about the forgiven faults of the young apprentice Obi-wan had been once.

It was why he had been so glad to see Obi-wan look at Sabé as he had, as if he were moonstruck, but fighting to not let it show.

The Jedi Master could be so cute.

"So, what's going on?" Padme asked when he entered her bedroom. The twins were occupied with their play blocks on the floor and didn't look up when their father entered. His wife sat on the bed, slowly brushing her long, brown hair. It looked like silk in the light filtering in through the window.

"You'll never guess. But I'll give you a hint. Obi-wan's going to start rushing around here like mad trying to have everything in the perfect order."

Padme gasped, dropped her brush and rose to take her husband in her arms. "Sabé is coming!"

"Yes, but let me be the one to tell Obi-wan. I want to see the look on his face."

As it was, Obi-wan was more than just a little excited. He bustled about, picking up toys and making neat little piles into even more neat piles and mostly rushed about, trying to look as if he was perfectly unaware of who was coming.

He kept muttering to himself about this or that, lost in his thoughts.

The Jedi didn't notice as Anakin and Padme stood in the hallway, arms around each other, watching their friend prepare the house. They smiled knowingly and Padme laid her head on her husband's chest, sighing in contentment.

"You think Sabé knows he feels this way?"

"Oh," Anakin chuckled, thinking of that night he had knocked on Obi-wan's door on the Medical Frigate, "I'm sure she knows. And, if I didn't know any better, or Nabooian women for that matter, I would think she had things well in hand."

"You think we might have another Jedi wedding again soon? We could have it right here in back of the house. Even if Obi-wan waits an entire season to get the guts to ask her, we could marry them in the garden. We could ask the Council to attend, and Jan and a few others. Oh, Ani, it would be wonderful! We didn't get to have a _real_ wedding, but Obi-wan and Sabé could!"

"I think you're getting a little ahead of them there, Padme. Next, you'll be planning baby names and where to put the new nursery. No, don't even think about it. I can't imagine Obi-wan in my position."

His wife laughed. "And what position would that be? Chained to woman for the rest of your life? Having to settle for home and family rather than off saving the galaxy?"

Anakin returned her good-natured laugh and bent down to kiss the top of her hair. But he stopped at the last moment, remembering and, ashamed, pulled away. Padme reached out and took his hand, squeezing it tightly. But there were tears in her eyes.

"Padme, would you mind if I borrowed the kitchen tonight. I mean...not borrowed, but used? I think I'll cook something for dinner tonight." Obi-wan passed them by, not noticing the tears Padme wiped away or the stiffness in Anakin.

He disappeared inside the kitchen and the two stood alone in the hallway.

"I'm sorry, Padme."

"I'm sorry too, love." She whispered in return, feeling his grief and self-directed frustration. But as much as she wanted to stay and comfort him, Padme knew he needed that moment to be alone. Pulling away she started after Obi-wan. "I think I should probably go save our beloved Jedi Master from himself and Sabé from his cooking."

Anakin relinquished her hand and didn't look as the kitchen door closed between them.

Suddenly the touching of hands didn't seem enough, the small, sweet gestures made in salute to what they had once shared. The smiles, the knowing eyes. It would never be enough, he knew. But they had both been trying to silence the hard truth, that they didn't have any other choice.

And for the first time, Anakin wondered if it would be better for both of them if Obi-wan and Sabé couldn't make it work. If they didn't have to watch the new happy couple together. Better if, maybe, somehow, Padme could find someone else. . .

He turned the thought away, knowing how foolish his wife would think him if ever he voiced it.

* * *

The rest of the day, Anakin waited for Sabé to arrive, almost as anxious as Obi-wan, but for much different reasons.

The meal he had intended to prepare had turned into a disaster. No surprise there, Obi-wan admitted glumly to himself. Cooking had never really been his strong point.

He was lucky that the message had come early in the afternoon, so he had the rest of the time to clean up the explosion that had covered the stove, the floor and a portion of the nearest wall in soup. The bread had burnt within minutes of being put in the oven.

Fortunately, Obi-wan didn't get much farther than the appetizer when a sympathetic Padme appeared and offered her aid. Kenobi thought he might fall to his knees and express his undying gratitude. It was Jedi dignity only that was his saving grace.

Despite having been a queen, a senator and a woman on the run, Padme knew more than was expected about the kitchen. Where she had gained her talents, Obi-wan wasn't sure, but she worked with the confidence of someone who had been preparing meals for others since she was old enough to reach the stove.

Quickly devising a plan, Padme set things to rights. She explained about the stove and stood with him as Obi-wan slowly added the correct ingredients to the soup. They rolled bread, ready to be put into the oven when their guest arrived so it would be baked and warm when put on the table. Guiding his hands, the former senator stood beside the Jedi and helped him cut the vegetables for the salad. Even though he felt childish, Kenobi never complained once.

For the main course, he, with Padme's help of course, prepared a lovely fish dish, complete with grilled mushrooms, sautéed onions and a rich creamy sauce.

Desert was a beautifully crafted chocolate moose treat.

When it was all ready, waiting only for the last small touches when Sabé arrived, Obi-wan stood back and stared in wonder. "I can't believe it. It's . . . _perfect_."

"Not quite yet," Anakin spoke up, walking into the room and handing his friend a single red rose. The Jedi stared at it quizzically. Was he just supposed to give it to her when she arrived? Wasn't that a little forward? Seeing his confused, Skywalker laughed. "It goes in the middle of the table."

Surprised, Obi-wan followed his friend and stopped short when they walked out into the backyard. There, in the middle of the garden Padme had planted ever so carefully during the last months of her pregnancy, stood a table with seats for two.

Upon a white silk table cloth sat blue china plates, crystal wine glasses, a bottle of champagne on ice, candles, and, in the center, a single glass vase for the rose.

Obi-wan turned grateful eyes to his friend and Anakin's bitterness receded; he hugged his friend, then sighed. "I never thought the day would come when _I_ would give _you _this bit of advice but...relax, Obi-wan! You look like you just swallowed your lightsaber!"

The Jedi Master drew a deep breath, let it out. He felt so nervous, yet so ready.

He never would have thought it possible. Never would he have imagined himself making dinner for a woman, sitting at such a romantic table sharing a meal. Talking. Laughing. Force, what would they talk about? What could a Jedi and a handmaiden have in common?

But looking at his friend, both Anakin and Padme looking at him with such love and pride, Obi-wan couldn't help but feel hopeful.

Maybe . . .just maybe . . .

"Well, I guess . . . everything's ready then." He wiped sweaty palms on his robes, glancing around for anything missing or out of place.

"Mmm . . . not quite." Padme gripped the Jedi by the shoulder and pushed him in the direction of the fresher. "Take a quick shower, clean up. You can't meet your date looking like you just came from the kitchens!"

Obi-wan didn't argue. He was too stunned by the word 'date'.

It was getting dark when Sabé finally arrived. It was the perfect, most romantic sunset ever, and the Skywalkers knew this was going to be just as wonderful.

Stepping out of her speeder, the former handmaiden-turned rebel agent looked for all the world like she had just walked off her ship. Dressed in a spacer outfit, hair pulled back to reveal her beautiful face so similar to Padme's, it didn't seem to be the same woman who had left them only a month ago.

But when she smiled, Padme cried out and ran to wrap her arms around her old friend.

"Oh, Sabé! It's so good to see you! I know it hasn't been that long, but I'm so used to having another woman around!"

Her friend laughed and tugged at Padme's long braids. "What? Are those men driving you crazy? Don't you worry. Long enough, you and Leia can hold them off together."

Arm in arm, the two walked back to the cottage where the men waited. Anakin stepped forward first, knowing this was the only moment he would have to say anything of any import to the young woman. He bowed and tried to appear a little less . . . well, Sith-like as Sabé approached.

"Anakin," she greeted him, hesitating only a moment.

"Sabé, welcome home." Anakin wondered, searched for words, not wanting to ruin the mood. "I hope, at least, you feel welcome here." What more could he say without ruining this for Obi-wan?

But the agent smiled and nodded in understanding, briefly taking her hand in his and giving it a little squeeze.

Then she turned to Obi-wan and her smile grew till it out-shown the setting sun. Kenobi gulped and reached out a hand for hers. Sabé took it and stepped up to the Jedi, searching his face with her eyes.

"Obi-wan."

"Sabé . . . "

"You are well?"

"Yes? And you?"

"Well," she laughed, "I just got back from a mission, on Coruscant, if you can believe that. It was easier than I thought it would be at first. The Empire seems to be weakening, though no one is quite sure how. But our chance could be arriving sooner than we thought."

It took Obi-wan a moment to realize she wasn't only talking to him, but to Anakin and Padme at the same time. She still held his hand, but her eyes were moving between the three as she spoke.

"The Council informed me you were relearning the Jedi path, Anakin. I can't tell you how that boosters the fighters' morale. True, the leaders speak little of you, but everyone else is whispering that soon will be the time for you to strike! The Emperor's evil has become more and more obvious now that everyone knows your story. More and more are joining the rebellion. Soon, maybe within the next five years or so, we may win!"

Padme and her husband exchanged glances, then nodded. "That is good news."

The young woman nodded solemnly, then sighed. "Yes, good news. But I fear I bring you bad news as well. I thought you should know, Anakin, Obi-wan. There are other whispers as well. The people of the Empire have their own heroes."

"How they learned of this, I don't know, but . . . the Rebellion tells one version of your fall, Anakin. But there is another people are learning now. One the Empire is telling. A far darker one and, regretfully, one much closer to the truth. I fear what may happen should, for any reason, our people begin to chose one version over the other. I and others, Jan Solik included, are hoping you might be . . . be well along in your training. Maybe make a few appearances at Home One, speak with the fighters. Maybe even, begin making plans . . . "

She trailed off as Anakin shook his head sadly. "I wish I could, Sabé. But I haven't even gotten beyond meditation as of yet. It may be months, or even years, before I'm ready to face the Emperor." When she nodded in understanding, then released Obi-wan's hand and stepped toward him, Anakin was surprised. She reached out and wrapped her arms around her friend, holding him close.

"Then be safe, my friend."

Then she pulled back and smiled sadly. "I wish I had better news."

"It's alright." Padme replied, looking to Obi-wan. The Jedi Master was engaged in the conversation, forgetting his nervousness about asking Sabé to dinner. When she caught his eye, he remembered and nodded.

"Well then" the handmaiden gave them each a hug again, lingering longest in the end with Obi-wan. "I should be going then."

"What?" The Jedi sputtered, caught himself. With a calm exterior that expertly hid how he felt inside, Obi-wan took the agent's hand in his and, despite the others watching, brushed his lips across her knuckles, a light kiss. Sabé gasped, then her eyes softened and she leaned toward the Jedi. "My lady, it would be my honor if you would join me for dinner tonight. Out under the stars. Just the two of us?"

"Oh, Obi-wan!" Sabé sighed, brushed her palm across his bearded cheek with such emotion, Padme was sure she herself was going to swoon. "If only I could. But I'm expected back at Home One for a briefing on my next mission. I only had time for a short visit."

The moment of romance broke and Obi-wan was physically yanked back. He stared at her, momentarily speechless. Padme gasped quietly and turned to her husband; Anakin held his breath. "But," Obi-wan managed. "but . . . I made _dinner_. It's all ready!"

"I appreciate the wonderful gesture." Sabé smiled, but she could see the hurt she had caused him. Despite it, she knew she had to go. "I'm so sorry Obi-wan. Next time, I promise."

And then guilt prompted her feet; Sabé turned and walked swiftly back to her speeder. Even as the stunned Jedi watched, she strapped in and gunned the engines.

"Next time!" she called over the roar. "I promise!"

Then she was gone, fading away into the last of the sunlight. Obi-wan stood, staring after her. There was such pain in his eyes, neither of his friends knew what to do.

Padme looked to Anakin, but he shook his head and she nodded and went inside. After a moment, Anakin approached his friend and laid a hand on his shoulder. When the Jedi didn't stir, he gave him a little shake and Kenobi woke, forced down the lump in his throat and made a weak attempt at smiling.

"Well, apparently Palpatine still wants revenge."

"Obi-wan. . . "

"I'd better go clean up." Before Skywalker could say any more, Obi-wan disappeared inside the house and left him without having been able to say a word to comfort.

Well, he wasn't getting away that easy. Kenobi just needed some time, then they were going to talk about this.

It had, after all, been very, _very_ brutal.

* * *

:D

Caslia


	23. Lightsabers: Chapter 2

Let me share a bit of frustration here. I read a fan fic the other day in which the author bitterly claimed that people tended to glorify Obi-wan and forget about Vader's point of view, about how he had been betrayed by Kenobi and the Jedi, and how it had been their fault he and Padme had been parted. I couldn't help but feel she was being really unfair to Obi-wan.

That sort of was what prompted the first part of this post. Obi-wan was as good a person as Anakin and didn't deserve the life he got.

And as much as I love teasing him, he deserves whatever happiness we can give him.

* * *

Chapter Five:

Lightsabers

Two years and seven months after _Rebirth of the Light_. . .

* * *

Obi-wan remained quiet and solemn for a long time after Sabé's visit. He had understood that she had other obligations, but still he had been cut deep, more so that he probably realized. What was more, he refused to talk about it with Anakin or Padme, no matter how they pushed or encouraged. When over a month had passed and the Jedi had still turned down all their efforts, the two gave up and let it be.

It was obvious to them both, though, that Obi-wan had been badly hurt.

It wasn't that she hadn't been able to attend dinner, or even that Sabé had yet to return and fulfill her promise. Kenobi had finally opened up and admitted to the former handmaiden that he had feelings for her, that he had been willing to risk his beliefs and his honor by denying the Order's views on relationships.

And Sabé had failed him.

It wasn't her fault. Or his. But it changed things.

For the longest time after that, only one person could get Obi-wan to really smile, to get that spark back in his eyes if only for a moment. His little niece, twelve months old and already acting the princess her father teasingly claimed she was, did everything possible to make her uncle happy.

Leia offered to share her toys, her food, her favorite blanket. She would run to him and wrap her chubby little arms around his boots and demand through the Force to be picked up. Padme would brush her hair but it was _Obi-wan_ who was to put the little pink and purple bows in.

Seeing her coming always brought a smile to Obi-wan's bearded face, and he would scoop her up and hold her close. Anakin watched, surprised he didn't feel envious at all, but rather, comforted to see both friend and daughter content with each other. Leia loved her father too and showed it many ways, but it was the Jedi Master her large brown eyes always followed.

Luke didn't share his sister's relationship with the older knight. He seemed well aware of everyone around him and spent an equal amount of time with all three guardians. It was Anakin he wanted to play and cuddle with, and for that Anakin was very grateful. His son would lie against his metal chest and look around the room, ever curious. Never once did either of the twins play with the buttons on his chest plate, as if instinctively knowing the danger of doing so.

So you'd think that if the twins knew not to play with daddy's life support system, they'd stay away from other dangers. But they were only babies after all.

The day Padme walked into the play room and saw Leia on the floor with Obi-wan's lightsaber in her mouth, she nearly died of fright.

Obi-wan lay curled up on the floor, the little girl and the favorite blanket in his arms, supposedly taking a nap. Apparently, Leia had awoken and, bored, turned to the interesting object on her uncle's utility belt. The Jedi was peacefully unaware of any of this till a hysterical Padme screamed her daughter's name and rushed into the room.

"Force, Leia, no!" so surprised was the little girl when her mother picked her up and tossed aside the offending object she started to cry.

Awoken by his charge's cries, Obi-wan jumped and looked as guilty as if he'd been caught thinking of Sabé in Master Yoda's presence.

"Are you mad, Obi-wan?! Having that weapon around the twins? What if Leia had accidentally activated it? She could have been killed!" She clutched her daughter to her and glared furiously at Kenobi.

"What's going on?!" Anakin demanded, charging into the room, Luke in one arm. He had felt his wife and daughter's fear in the Force and come to the rescue, only to find a shamed Obi-wan facing down a livid Padme.

"Anakin! He-she-Leia. . . "

"I fear I unintentionally endangered your princess, Ani." Obi-wan shame-facedly admitted, looking at the little girl as if he were about to have a heart attack. Anakin realized his friend, only now realizing the danger, was as scared as Padme, but the former senator wasn't taking the time to see it. "I should have realized that a toothing baby will chew on anything. We were napping and I guess Leia awoke before me."

"She had his lightsaber in her mouth!" Padme cried, cooing to her daughter and rocking her back and forth. Leia, for her part, now seemed unconcerned by the whole situation and gave her mother a look that clearly said she was over reacting. "Ani, she could have been killed!"

"But she wasn't." Anakin responded, trying to sooth his anguished wife. He sent warm, understanding feelings to Obi-wan through the Force, saying he knew it had been an accident. "Calm down, Padme. It was a simple mistake."

Padme sighed and hugged Leia to her, then reached for her son and held him close as well. "You're right. She's okay. But Obi-wan, I'm going to ask that from now on you keep your saber out of reach from the twins."

"Of course, Padme. I would never mean to cause them any harm." The Jedi looked embarrassed. "I would never hurt either Luke or Leia."

Nodding Padme turned and moved to put both twins in their play pen. "Of course not, Obi-wan. I know you wouldn't, I know you love them." She picked up the discarded lightsaber and blanket. The latter she hung over the side of the pen so Leia could pull it down when she wanted. The other, she handed to Obi-wan, who hesitantly took it but didn't clip it to his belt.

Anakin and Padme watched their friend closely as he examined the casing, not looking for anything, just remembering.

Jedi do not have possessions they care for, it distracts them from the Force. But this saber was important, to both Anakin and Obi-wan. It was Qui-gon's lightsaber, the one his grieving apprentice 

had used to destroy a Sith, the last thing but memories they had of the old Jedi Master who had been like a father to them both.

"I'll leave it in my room from now on." Obi-wan promised sadly, then headed for the door, not looking at either of his friends.

Padme nodded, feeling a little guilty, but reassured. "Thank you, Obi-wan."

"Ob!"

The Jedi Knight froze in mid step and looked back. Both he and Anakin turned to the crib in surprise.

"Ob!" Leia giggled, leaning against the inside of the pen. She had one fist clutched around her blanket, the other reaching out for Kenobi. She hiccupped, laughed, then said "Obi!"

The three adults stood starting, mouths open. The little girl giggled again, then put her fist with blanket into her mouth and stared, smiling at the Jedi.

"By the Force!" Obi-wan gasped, then moved to the pen to pick up the little princess. Almost there, he stopped and looked to Padme and Anakin.

Anakin smiled, his pride in his daughter shining brightly in the Force. He nodded encouragingly, and a moment later, Padme, a small frown between her brows, gave her silent permission as well.

Dropping the saber, Obi-wan scooped up the child and held her close, laughing. Leia giggled and repeated her first word again, tugging on the Jedi's beard with delight.

Luke looked on, gazing curiously at his sister.

Skywalker bent down for his son who willingly crawled into his father's arms so he could watch the interesting scene from a better height.

"Her first word!" Anakin breathed, tears in his eyes. His wife wrapped an arm around him and leaned in close. But it didn't take the Force to tell him she wasn't as happy about this moment as he was. Making sure Obi-wan was occupied tickling and talking to Leia, he leaned down to Padme.

"What is it?"

"Her first word! Anakin, that was her first word! Obi-wan! Not mommy, not daddy, but Obi! It's. . . I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound selfish, but it's unfair!"

"Oh, Padme!" He smiled, "Just looked at them. I haven't seen Obi-wan this happy in so very long. And Leia loves his so much, it seems only right. Please, try and be happy for them. She'll be saying mommy soon enough."

Just at the moment, Leia looked to her mother and as if seeing the hurt there, giggled and reached for her. Grinning like his face would split, Obi-wan handed over the little girl and Padme cuddled her daughter close and kissed her soft brown curls. And then, in a gesture Anakin thought was very diplomatic of his retired wife, she grudgingly handed her Leia back to the Jedi, smiling.

"Here."

Grateful, Obi-wan gently took the little girl, but now his eyes were all for Padme. "Thank you."

"Just keep your lightsaber away from her."

"I will. I promise."

* * *

After that, the depression that had weighed so heavily upon the Jedi Master vanished within the day. It was as if the sunlight had finally speared through cloudy skies. It was what he had needed, Anakin recognized. That healing power of love, of unconditional affection and understanding that Skywalker himself had been searching for when first coming to the cottage that was now home.

Nothing made him happier that to know Obi-wan had now found a similar love that would last.

They all waited eagerly after that for Luke's first words.

But if Luke Skywalker had any idea about the intense anticipation as the weeks rolled by, his parents waiting for him to speak, he pretended to be completely unaware of it.

The son of Skywalker appeared completely content to simply sit and watch his guardians. He would sit and stare, taking it all in. His blue eyes seemed to see everything at once, always searching for more. If there was something Luke wanted, he wouldn't voice it. The Force was his tool for communication.

Anakin and Obi-wan tried not to encourage it. While they wanted the boy to be comfortable using the Force, and strong in his interaction with it, they didn't want him to rely upon it for everything.

Leia continued to try out new words as the weeks passed. The day she reached for Padme and called her mama, her mother cradled her child and wept, unwilling to release the girl even when Leia began to wail her distress. Obi-wan was utterly distraught till Padme wiped her eyes and relinquished her daughter.

As proud as they were of her, Anakin worried for his daughter, almost as much as he did for Luke. Leia, as any human child, associated the images of things with the names she gave them. It could mean that when she did call him daddy, she didn't mean the presence she felt through the Force, but rather, the hideous mask he had yet been unable to rid himself of.

His Jedi skills were progressing swiftly now, so much more coming back even after so long. But healing had never been one of his talents and as of yet, only the twins' small scrapes and bruises mended under his touch. His own body would be near impossible, till either he was more in touch with the Lightside, or many years from now when he could fully study the Healer arts.

Either way, not very encouraging.

But he was drawing on the Lightside now. And, oh, how wonderful it was. Anakin found it hard sometimes to believe he had given up the warmth of the Light for the bitter Darkness, had ever been so full of anger and frustration that the brightness within him had been snuffed out.

For so long, both Obi-wan and Padme had reassured him after his redemption that there _was_ goodness within him, that he had been a kind and compassionate person. That people had wanted to be his friend and had looked up to him. He hadn't wanted to believe it, hadn't wanted to have to accept that such a person could be so easily corrupted. It would be so much easier to simply believe he had always been cold, that he hadn't betrayed them and himself as much as he had.

But there are some truths that you simply can't escape.

With the return of the Light, other things became clearer than they had been. "Memories," he admitted to Obi-wan, "ones I had forced myself to forget so I felt less guilty about the things I did in the name of the Empire."

The Jedi Master would smile and nod, but it was a sad look, and he would ask his friend, "And. . . and memories of the Darkness?"

"I'll never loose those. I can't afford to. For the rest of my life, I will live with the memories of what I did, and why. Otherwise, I've learned nothing, and am just as likely to fall again."

And so he was. Anakin never tried to deny what he knew to be true. That there was always a chance, always a danger of the Darkness seeping back in, of being caught off guard.

That was the reason for the nightmares, for the dreams. They were a constant. There wasn't a single night he did not have them, not since that day of his redemption. He didn't speak of them, to either his wife or his friend. Why should he make his pain theirs? They didn't need to know the extent of his personal darkness. Of the deaths he had caused, relished in.

They came in confusing, twisting, maddening images.

Stormtroopers: row upon row of mindless, guiltless soldiers in his control. The grim gaze of their helmets, as dark and as gruesome as his own. Like death, born from the sky on metal wings, baring white armor. Trampling the people as they ran, shooting, killing. Destroying.

Children, hiding in dark corners, large eyes watching. Whimpering. Dying. The strewn corpses in the fields, along the streets.

The Jedi apprentices, in their pathetic attempts to draw upon the Force to save themselves, to fight him back. The mothers and the weeping babes and Padme's sad, sad eyes, begging him to stop.

The crumbling ruins of Theed, the starving survivors. Executions, people of all species lined up in rows at the side of the river. Where is the Lady Skywalker? No answer, a blaster shot. Where is the Lady Skywalker? Your life or hers! The deafening silence, the beings dying to protect a single, brave woman they admired.

And those other, courageous, beings led away, chains binding their hands behind their backs. Slaves. Slaves lining the streets, filling the cities, the ships. Making a path from the present into the past where those hands had been his own, when he too had been a slave.

His mother's eyes, so full of love and pride and death. Her grave, so silent and condemning. And Qui-gon's sad voice, weeping in the Force for his last charge, his youngest son.

How could he ever tell Obi-wan of these things? He couldn't change them; the only thing Anakin could do to appease the nightmares was make himself worthy of being a Jedi, of having been redeemed when so many had died. When _he_ deserved to have died.

And so as the months passed, Anakin threw himself into his Jedi training. To prove himself worthy. To strengthen his connection to the Light. To save himself.

He could not heal his body, but he was determined to heal his soul.

* * *

What with the twins now eighteen months old and able to walk, few places in the house were private or save from the curious hands. The playroom, the kitchen, their parent's bedroom, the sitting room; even Obi-wan's sparse Jedi quarters and the meditation room had fallen prey to scattered toys and the twin's presence.

So when Anakin wanted some peace, he sought out a small back room he had had built for the purpose of storage. It was large enough to contain shelves, loose droid pieces, a table and some ten feet of free space. Quiet and dark, it was the perfect place for Anakin.

It was so much like his room in the slave quarters on Tatooine, or the tiny room he had claimed as his own in the Jedi hanger, to work on his droids and have some alone time.

As a Sith, he had not been interested in fixing or improving droids. It had been a hobby that was part of an old life, for which he had little time, and reminded him too much of things better left forgotten.

But now, as Anakin Skywalker emerged from the self-created persona of Darth Vader, he sought out familiar things.

Darth would sit in the gloomy room, far removed from the rest of the house, with a single light and ply what might have become his trade, had not the Force been his destiny. The tools were familiar in his hands; the pieces seemed to fit together like magic. And though nothing ever was intended to come from any of this, it helped him think and remember. It was an exercise, as much as meditating. It relaxed him. Anakin found comfort in the things he _could_ fix, those that had been destroyed in the past.

But eventually his tinkering had evolved into something more. From time to time, he made his children little toys. He adjusted Threepio's range of domestic capabilities so he could be a greater help to Padme (for which both droid and wife were very grateful) but most was nothing more than something for his hands to do while his mind wandered.

It wandered so far that his hands could work without him; that they would create from the metal without his knowing it.

And the dreams would come back.

So in the darkness of that work room, Anakin would think on the past, on all he had lost and what had been given back only by some kindness of the Force. The regret and the shame, the love and the deep, bitter anguish that filled his dreaming mind. And from this was built a beautifully crafted cylinder, with hilt and grip, with lens and power cell, so that one day, when there was a knock at the door and Obi-wan asked if he could come in, Anakin was unaware of what he had been working on.

"Darth. . . why didn't you tell me you were building a lightsaber?"

Looking down at his hands, Anakin was surprised, but not overly so. He had known he'd been working on something for weeks now, diligently, ever so carefully. Unknowingly. A lightsaber. To replace the one lost to the lava.

Or the Sith saber Obi-wan kept locked within the chest in his room. To remember, his friend had once told him. To remember how close they had come to loosing him. To never forget his own failings as master and friend.

"I didn't know I was." Anakin admitted, admiring the fine craftsmanship, the smooth lines and good balance of the hilt. It was perfect. "I needed a lightsaber, or would, eventually. I'm almost ready for us to start practicing dueling. It's not like I could have done it empty handed," he joked.

Obi-wan nodded, took a seat beside his friend and Anakin handed him the saber. Obi-wan's opinion of it was similar: it was well-made and would work well.

"I only wish you had told me. I could have given you your old one back."

"No. I will never use that blade again, Obi-wan. It has taken too many lives to be a weapon of a Jedi."

"No, you're blue saber. The one you. . . I picked it up. . . that day on Mustarfar."

"Oh." Anakin thought for a moment, fingering the new, unfinished saber in his hands. "I had thought I had lost that one that day. My Jedi saber. Along with everything else that was a part of my old life." The new saber sang softly to him through the Force. It wasn't like his others. His first sabers had been built with impatience, built by a young man far to eager to use it. The last one he wore as a Jedi had seen his slow demise, but for that, it was all the better, learning from the mistakes of its master. "Save it." He said at last. "Save it for either Luke or Leia. One of these days, when they are older, they may have use of it." Maybe his old saber could teach them what it had taken their father a great amount of betrayal and anguish to finally grasp.

Obi-wan watched him, then finally nodded in understanding. "Alright. If that's what you want, Ani."

"Yes. It is. I'll have to find crystals for this one. It only seems right that I have a new saber for a new life. I can only hope I'll use this one wisely. But I don't know where on Thantinia I'll find a crystal for it."

His old master smiled. If it was sad, that it was only rightfully so. "I do."

From within the chest in his room, Obi-wan removed the hilt of a lightsaber. The part from where the blade extended had been sliced off, and from the look of the damage, it had been done by another lightsaber.

Gently, as though it was one of the twins he were holding, the Jedi Master removed two crystals from within and handed them to Anakin.

"Whose was this?" He forced himself to ask, knowing just by looking at the destroyed weapon that the owner had met their fate at his hands. It was the weapon of a Jedi, one who had no doubt died in the Purge. Did he have a right, to use these crystals?

"Her name was Siri." Obi-wan responded, placing the saber back in the chest and not looking at Skywalker. "She was one of my friends, from my days as an apprentice."

He didn't need to say how she had died, or how he had come upon the lightsaber, and Anakin didn't need to ask.

"But. . . I think she wouldn't mind you having those. Siri was always very practical. You have a new saber now, Anakin. And, as you say, a new life. But promise me. Promise me you won't forget the past, or the Jedi with whom you shared it."

"I won't forget, Obi-wan." He thought of Siri and wondered which face was hers in his nightmares. "I won't."

Enough of making promises, Anakin decided. Time he fulfill them.

* * *

:D Yeah! I did this post all in one day!

More later! I'm on a roll!

Caslia


	24. Lightsabers: Chapter 3

I wrote this next post the same day I wrote the last one! Two posts in one day! Wohoo! Go me! :D Sorry, I had a coke with dinner. :p

Just a short one this time, but it kinda talks about some things that need to be addressed.

* * *

Chapter Five:

Lightsabers

Two years and seven months after _Rebirth of the Light_. . .

* * *

When another month passed and Luke, despite the constant encouragements of both his guardians and his sister, still hadn't said a word, Anakin and Padme started to worry.

"Mama," Padme would say to her son, bouncing him up and down in her arms. "Luke, look at me. Mama." Luke would look at his mother and smile and nod, but never say a word.

Anakin wasn't one to push his son or try too much at once, but he did talk to him constantly, no matter what he was doing. He would talk to Luke as he fed the boy at meals, and to Leia. His daughter would respond with one syllable words, and Luke would listen. Anakin knew his son understood, but he never once tired to say anything, no matter what they were talking about.

And when Leia finally scrunched up her beautiful little nose and spoke to her brother aloud, not through the Force, all three thought Luke may respond. "Luke! Talk, talk! Talk Daddy!"

Her brother only smiled, a patient, knowing smile that had all of them wondering.

What did he know that they didn't?

With Luke not saying a word, Leia filled in all the silence. Every chance she got, she extended her vocabulary, telling her mama or Obi about what she was doing or what she felt or wanted. And sometimes, she would say Luke needed something. When they asked Luke why he just didn't tell them, he would stare with his father's blue eyes. And smile.

"I don't know what to do!" Padme wailed one night when they were alone in their bedroom, the children asleep in the playroom. "Anakin, all he ever does is stare at me and smile! I'm worried. What if he can't talk? I hate to think about it, but...maybe, as the smaller twin, as the second, maybe he was somehow damaged in the birth! Oh, Ani! What if he _never_ talks!"

"Shhh, my love." He tried to console her, just as worried. "I'm sure there's some other reason. I know there is. Listen," he took her face in his two monstrous hands and rubbed away her tears gently with his thumbs. "If he doesn't start talking soon, I can. . . I can reach inside his mind. . . "

Padme started to cry again, shaking against him and holding him tight. Luke was far too old not to be talking. She simply couldn't bear the thought her son's mind was damaged. But even worse was the thought of his father having to violate him in such a way, even if Luke consented to the invasion. And knowing what he might find was even worse.

He had been the smaller of the twins, had been so hard to birth. And so quiet, giving only a small cry when he came into the world.

"Oh, Ani. Please, please don't do that. Not to our son. What are we going to do? What are we going to do if there _is_ something wrong with him?"

"Alright, Padme, alright." Anakin sighed and brushed her hair, thinking. He hadn't wanted to entered Luke's mind either, not a child so small. Who knew what damage he could do, inside his boy's mind. If he lost control. "There is something else we might do. I could contact Jan Sollik. She might know. Her daughter. . . "

Micha. The beautiful red-headed little girl had died a violent, terrible death as her mother had been dragged away from her by Imperial troopers.

"Jan had a daughter, long ago." How many times had he seen the little girl die in his dreams? How many times had he reached out to save her, even as he knew it was too late, that his troopers had taken her life as he had nearly taken her mother's. "She may know."

So they called Home One and had them find the pilot.

Padme stood beside her husband, all trace of tears gone. She would be strong, she told herself. She would listen and learn what the other woman could tell them. And then, if there was nothing they could do for their son, she would still be strong. Padme was determined, and she never failed when she set her mind to something."

"Skywalker!" Jan smiled when she saw her friend, but it quickly vanished as the look on Padme's face became clear. "Oh no. Anakin, what is it? The twins?"

"Yes," Anakin forced out, his hand gripping his wife's tightly. "Jan, I don't mean to hurt you, but. . . I need to ask you about Micha."

Sollik nodded. Anakin was relieved to find that even though the thought of her murdered daughter grieved her, it was not the bitterness that had once consumed the rebel when first they had met. It seemed time, and his gift of the Force, had helped ease her memories of the dark past.

If only they could do the same for him. Or help his son.

"How old was she? When she started talking?"

"Micha was seventeen months or so when she said her first words. Most babies can make short sentences by two years. Small words first, of course. Things like mama and daddy, or the name of their favorite toy or animal. Micha's was 'budderfie'." Jan smiled, tears in her eyes. "It was her way of saying butterfly."

Anakin nodded, but these words did nothing to help or reassure. "Leia started talking some two months ago. Now, she does it constantly. But Luke. . . he hasn't said a word. Not a single think. Oh, he laughs and cries, so he's not mute. But. . . Jan, we're very worried, Padme and I."

Their friend looked just as concerned and shook her head. "I wish I could help you, Anakin. But I don't know. It's not unusual for children to learn to talk later in life, but if he doesn't start speaking before his second year. . . "

Padme stiffened beside him. Anakin admired her strength. He felt like he was breaking inside.

"We just don't know what to do. . . "

"Give it time," Jan shrugged, "sometimes that's all it takes. Just try to be patient and loving. Encourage, but don't force."

When Sollik was gone and the holo shut down, Padme turned and wrapped herself in her husband's arms. They stood, holding each other close, wondering.

What more could they do?

They would have to wait, and hope. And put their trust in the Force.

* * *

Luke wasn't the only one Padme was concerned about. Anakin worried her greatly as well. She might not have, had Obi-wan not come back from her husband's work room one day with quiet, desperate fear in his eyes and taken a seat at the kitchen table.

Following him, Padme sat down and taking his hand in hers, asked, "Sabé?"

"Anakin."

Anakin? It was like an echo from dark years before, when Obi-wan had first spoken to her of the Darkness growing within her loving husband. What could be wrong with Anakin? For a moment, she feared if she went looking, she would find him gone, or worse. But no, the Jedi shook his head and turned his gray blue eyes to hers, and she saw there the dangerous mix of pride and fear.

"He's built himself a new lightsaber."

And from that moment on, Padme began to worry as well. About the past. About the future. About her husband.

Lightsabers. They were weapons of honorable Jedi and of traitorous Sith. But no matter who wielded them, one thing stood true for all sabers. They killed.

In the past, Anakin's saber had been meant for just this purpose. Many had fallen to that blood-red blade. Jedi had lost their lives to it, friends had watched in horror as its soiled light was the last thing they ever saw in this galaxy.

It had nearly taken _her_ life. Had been drawn as he entered the room that day of the twin's birth. Anakin had pulled it from Obi-wan's belt aboard the _Medical Frigate_ to fight the bounty hunter Boba Fett.

That was the past. And as terrible as that was, the future, unknown, was worse. If Anakin had built himself a new lightsaber, it meant he thought he would have cause to use it; otherwise he would never have made it. It meant he remembered how to fight, how to kill.

Meant he _needed_ to remember these things.

Because when he faced the Emperor, he would have to. Her husband would draw his lightsaber and fight. Whatever, _who_ ever Palpatine threw at him. Would fight to destroy the man who had taken away the freedom of the galaxy and the life Anakin had known but had taken for granted.

Padme had not wanted to think of the future, of what was meant when Obi-wan or the Council spoke of Anakin's 'destiny'.

Now, it was all too close.

When her husband began practicing in the front yard with Obi-wan, she averted her eyes and turned away from the windows.

* * *

Caslia


	25. Lightsabers: Chapter 4

Sorry for the long delay. I just started college and have been kinda busy.

* * *

Chapter Five:

Lightsabers

Two years and seven months after _Rebirth of the Light_. . .

* * *

The grasslands spread out on all sides of them in the shining sunlight. Grass waved and a nearby lake rippled in the gentle kiss of the wind. It was so peaceful here.

The saber felt right in his hand. Made him feel strong again, as if all the past had fallen away and left him with these clear, simple thoughts. Right, slash, back, parry.

Anakin's feet moved beneath him in a time honored dance, his new cobalt saber flashing in the sunlight. It was so easy to fall back into the rhythm. He no longer struggled with it, but let the Force guide him. He was pebble in a stream, letting the water push him, guide him, in defense and in attack.

Across from him, Obi-wan moved as though he were a young man again, his eyes focused and determined. The Force bound them together, and they fought as one, sabers clashing, sending sparks flying.

They were dueling, but not fighting. There was no threat here. Anakin grinned, rejoicing in his communication with the Force, his link with Kenobi. His breathing was light and he might as well have been a man of flesh and blood.

Obi-wan caught the infectious good feelings of his friend and laughed. He ducked a swing and brought his own lightsaber up to meet it. "You're doing well, Anakin."

They pushed apart, swung, parried, and the older Jedi found himself face to face with his friend, staring into the mask. He waited for his heart to skip a beat, to have to swallow the fear that must still linger from those dark days. But his heart beat on. No bitter taste of fear. Nothing but trust.

He swung for the redeemed Jedi's legs, but Anakin was quicker. He flipped, was ready when next Obi-wan came at him.

In the last two months since he had constructed his lightsaber and relearned the art of dueling, Skywalker had studied closely the techniques of both defense and attack. As a Jedi Knight, he might only have considered defense, but his Sith training had a voice too. It said do not be afraid to fight, do not step down. The Jedi in him whispered of patience. He coupled that with the passionate determination a Sith displays, without the blind aggression.

It made him a formidable foe during the Purges. Now, it gave Anakin the confidence he needed to push forward with his training.

Balance, Obi-wan had said. Between past and present. Light and Dark.

He was learning quickly now. Obi-wan, too, had begun to look more closely at the techniques they used while dueling. He had altered some of his responses, adapting to fit Anakin's new style.

Kenobi thought back to the battle on Naboo, with the Sith apprentice and the day he had lost his master. How could he have defeated the Sith, when his methods had been nothing but defense, block, back away? It had only been some miracle of the Force, some misstep in the dance that had killed the 

Dark apprentice. The Jedi and their methods had been for too long nothing more for exercise, for show. They had not fought a real battle in a thousand years. They had become complacent.

Ironic, in some ways, that it had been Obi-wan Kenobi who had been the first to learn to truly fight. To couple defense with offense. It was not enough to survive. This was the enemy of the Jedi, a threat to the galaxy. You also had to be willing to kill. Ironic, because he had needed the skills he learned that day, had needed them for a day that would determine the fate of the galaxy.

With Anakin, on Mustafar.

Skywalker felt the memory through their link and shuddered, but did not loose his focus. He had not been thinking of that day, but rather of another, farther into the past. Geonosis, and his own first encounter with a Sith Lord.

He nearly chuckled at his own foolishness. How childish he had been, running in to face Dooku alone! Ah well, time teaches much, and Anakin put those lessons to good use now.

He called upon the Force, used it as a shield when he was too slow in spinning around to block Kenobi. The saber bounced harmlessly off his shield, protecting his suit. As Vader, he had learned quickly that a single strike with a saber in the appropriate spot could make him defenseless, put him at the mercy of his attacker. The Force shield was strong enough to survive minor blaster fire and the sting of a saber, but would not last long, even when protecting only a small area.

The dance continued, their link binding the two together stronger than it had years ago. Anakin knew when to duck, when to lash out. And while it kept him aware of Obi-wan and the 'threat' his saber provided, it also reminded him this was only practice. Reassuring waves brushed against his mind and Anakin smiled.

The rebuilding of his and Obi-wan's bond had not taken as long or been as hard as he would have imagined.

He had imagined it rotted, broken after a long decay that had eaten away at the threads till they had snapped that day on Sullest, ending their partnership. Their friendship. But he had been pleasantly surprised to find a new, stronger bond had been born in its place.

It had bound them without either one of them knowing, born that day of the twins birth, when forgiveness had been asked for and acceptance been offered. Fired in the flames they had survived, in the tests their friendship had undergone, on Geonosis, during the Clone Wars, on Sullest. It was stronger, for all their faults, all their failures.

They had endured.

And come out better for it on the other side.

Anakin felt the joy rise up in himself, felt it in their link, burning bright. A laugh escaped him as their sabers met again, clashing in the sunlight of Thanitinia.

But the moments of levity and comfort brought about by his and Obi-wan's bond never lasted when returning to their house.

Leia and Luke would be there, having sensed their coming, waiting on the porch for their father and uncle to return from practice. She would giggle and wave her pudgy baby hand, calling "Daddy and Uncle Obi are back, Mama! Mama!" Luke would watch silently, smiling broadly.

And then the shadow would pass over them both as Padme would appear in the doorway, smiling softly at her children, trying to hide the touch of sadness that colored her Force presence with darkness. She had given up trying to get Luke to talk, but guilt rode her constantly. Anakin knew Padme blamed herself, believed she had failed her son as a mother; that, somehow, his troubled birth had led to his silence.

The boy did what a child could to comfort the distress he felt in his mother.

Luke played like any child his age, he laughed and hummed tunes played by his toys. So, he wasn't mute. He picked flowers with his sister, and slept through the night. The only sign he was any different was his lack of speech. Luke liked to lie in the grass and watch the clouds, like to listen to the rain, and these things seemed reflected in his eyes.

"There's knowledge there," Obi-wan said one night, as Luke lay in his mother's arms, watching the flames flicker in the fire place. "He's looking around him and seeing something we don't. Not with the usual child's wonder. With something else."

Padme looked down at her son and smiled. "What do you see Luke?"

Her son smiled at her, but said nothing. And if there was something more in his eyes, something that spoke of knowledge and wisdom beyond his year and a half, it wasn't obvious to her.

The dreams became more and more frequent as the weeks wore on and his training progressed. Dreams of death and betrayal, of blood staining his black armor.

Faces screamed in silence.

Children died in his arms.

Jedi honorably fought till the end they knew was coming and could not escape.

Worse yet, in many of the dreams, Anakin faded away and it was Vader that watched the dreams, that relived the dark moments that had crippled his soul. Watched, with a detached, nonchalant air as the friends and family of his former self suffered under his shadow. He was rotting away inside, the Light within him now nothing more than the lights indicating his respirator was operational.

Harsh, mechanical breathing sucked the life out of the stars.

This night was the worst, for the nightmares of what could have been, what was for a time, fell away and surrendered to the horrors of his life before Vader. Of Anakin's slow corruption.

And as if Obi-wan's words had triggered some carefully locked room, the memory of Mustafar resurfaced to haunt Anakin this night. He was swallowed in the past, returned to that moment of his utter and supposedly irredeemable fall to the Darkside. To the lava. To death.

If only he had died.

* * *

_The red light of his saber, the flames that roared up from the lava pits, the fiery sun setting: blood on the dry rocks._

_Shadows played across the face of a younger Obi-wan Kenobi, desperation and determination having brought him here. To save an apprentice already lost. To grieve for a friend he is only now realizing he has failed._

_To protect the future of the galaxy._

_But Anakin knew none of this. Only the hate, the rage boiling inside, ready to erupt, to destroy, anyone, anything. This man before him, his so called friend. His master._

_He spat, hating the bitter taste of the word, knowing Kenobi deserves no such title. Thinking he knows the depths of betrayal._

_The saber feels right in his hand..._

_Makes him feel strong again, as if. . . as if. . . _all the past falls away and leaves him with these clear, simple thoughts. Right, slash, black, parry.

Has he been here before? Somewhere, some green field in fading sunlight?

_Anakin's feet move beneath him in a time honored dance, his new_ cobalt. . . _red saber flashing in the blood red sunset. It is so easy to fall into the rhythm. He no longer struggles with the weak Light, but lets the Darkside of the Force guide him. He is pebble in a stream, letting the water push him, guide him, in defense and in attack._

_Across from him, Obi-wan moves as though hesitant, though his eyes are focused and determined. The Force binds them together, and they fight as one, sabers clashing, sending sparks flying._

_But they are fighting against each other, fighting in a duel that will leave one of them dead._

_Skywalker is not afraid. The dark joy that courses through him at the thought of Kenobi's death gives him strength, speed, agility. They have been fighting a long time in the fading light, but he is not tired. No! He is empowered! Here is the strength he has been missing! Here is the confidence, the sense of purpose he has been searching for, for so long! No longer the weak Jedi, the unworthy apprentice! He is powerful!_

_Obi-wan is tiring, his cloak wrapping around him, making his stumble. His grief wears him down, his last, hopeless longing a weakness he can't escape._

_Anakin uses it against him, taunting him, harsh words. Obi-wan stands strong, and that strength is poison to Skywalker. Fury consumes him._

_He blocks, thrusts, shoves his old master back hard, sending him scrambling into the dirt. The hard earth crunches beneath his boots, ominous steps as he approaches his fallen master._

_Red saber raised, he is ready for the end. Ready for it all to be over. Ready to destroy that last small light that is his friend. Now is the moment. Obi-wan Kenobi will die!_

_And in that moment, he sees the look in the Jedi Master's eyes. Feels him reaching out to the Force. Feels himself being shoved back, of falling. . . of fire. . . _

* * *

Anakin awoke with a start, gasping.

In the darkened bedroom he shared with Padme, his breathing was loud, harsh. But that was the only sound, everything was silent, still. The shadows watched him condescendingly, offended by his rude interruption of the quiet night. Nothing stirred and Skywalker came back to the present.

He was home, on Thantinia. With his family. Safe.

Beside him, Padme slept on, peaceful and ignorant of her husband's nightmares. He was grateful not to have woken her. These terrible memories were his and his alone.

Reassured, he felt the calm presence of the twins next door, of Obi-wan's dreamless sleep down the hall. Everything was all right.

Just a nightmare, he told himself, lying back down in the sheets, ignoring the fact he could not feel their silkiness beneath him. Just a nightmare, nothing more. Old memories, of times past. Why did he dream of Sullest? Of the day he lost everything?

The shadows didn't have an answer, and he forced himself back to sleep.

In the morning, the sunlight stripped away all fever dreams and nightmarish memories. Anakin forgot, and was grateful for it.

* * *

"Are you alright?"

"What?" Anakin blinked, nearly forgetting to bring his saber up to block Obi-wan's swing. His friend gave him a look that clearly said he suspected something was wrong. Guiltily, Skywalker turned his eyes away, hoping to hide the truth, hoping it didn't come through in their bond. "Sorry, wasn't concentrating."

"So I noticed. In fact, you haven't been all day. What's wrong, Anakin?"

"Nothing, just a little tired. I guess I haven't been sleeping well."

"Want to take a rest? It's almost sunset." It was, Anakin realized. Somewhere during their practice, the bright afternoon sunlight had tarnished to a rusted red, the run sinking below the horizon. The warmth of the day had been blown away by the evening winds. "We can continue tomorrow." His friend offered, looking concerned.

For a moment, he thought about it. About ending the practice and sitting down beside his friend next to the lake and resting. Listening to the sounds of night approaching. But Obi-wan would continue to pressure him, wanting to know what was wrong.

"No, I'm fine." Anakin lied. The sunset glared accusingly at him. Anakin glared back, the glare nearly blinding him.

Despite the warmth of the sun's last light, the evening had grown cold, the wind whipping at the Jedis' cloaks. Obi-wan shivered occasionally, but didn't loose his focus. Anakin, however, constantly found his attention wandering today, thinking his own quiet thoughts or staring off over the grasslands.

His gaze drifted to the lake, reflecting the crimson sunset. So cold was the evening, steam rose up from the top of the lake and tangled menacingly with the rays of light.

In that moment, two sabers clashed, and Anakin's thoughts whirled.

The steam from the lava reached out hot, searing fingers for his fragile flesh. The air of Sullest was hard to breathe in, so strongly did it smell of sulfur, so harshly did it sear the lungs. And where there had once been grass underfoot there were bloodied rocks, crunching, like bones, under his boots.

The blood was his, was Kenobi's.

And so were the sabers'.

They clashed in the sunset, two black shadows against the horizon. The sun bathed faces twisted in the most grievous of human expression: fear and hatred. They sweated in the heat, Anakin's energy escaping his body as quickly as sanity had his minds. But his former master was faring far worse and so he pressed the advantage.

Dazed, he followed the motions of the memory that was so familiar to him now. Was he dreaming again? Each step was the same, and should Kenobi step falsely, disturb this nightmarish dance, Anakin quickly put it to right again.

His mind was working in slow motion, the Anakin of the past and himself remaining separated, but his present self remembered what he had been thinking then. What he had been intending to do.

Just a dream. Just a nightmare. No reason to be afraid.

Soon, he would wake again in his bed, beautiful, forgiving Padme lying asleep next to him and the twins innocently slumbering in their room. This would be no different then the dream he had only the night before. It would pass and leave him to struggle back to sleep, guilty conscious berating himself for so easy succumbing.

And then came the moment he always dreaded, whether in memories or in dreams. He blocked, thrust, shoved his old master back hard, sending him scrambling into the dirt. Battered and bloody, Obi-wan crumpled, but refused to give up. He reached for his lightsaber. A wicked smile creased Skywalker's face; he knew the older Jedi would call it to him only too late...the hard earth crunched beneath his boots, ominous steps as he approached his fallen master...oh, here is sweet, sweet victory.

Inside, Anakin wept, wondering how long before he would awake. Yet the moment didn't come.

He lowered his saber to Kenobi's throat, preparing to kill even as he knows he will not succeed. Because this is the moment he is shoved into the lava, the moment the Force comes to Obi-wan's aid and attempts to destroy the pale shadow of what was once Anakin Skywalker.

The nightmare continued to play out. In that moment, he looked into the Jedi Master's eyes. But rather than seeing the determination there, rather than the fear and the guilt and the deep-seeded longing, Anakin, even in his dream-fogged mind, sees something he did not expect.

Trust.

Still there, burning brighter than ever. Its light was strong enough to burn away the dream, to send the memory skittering into the shadows of his mind and he blinked.

Anakin opened his eyes to find the desolate landscape of Sullest replaced by the gentle green hills of Thantinia, fading into darkness as the last of the sun set. The lake's surface continued to steam as the chill descends, but the wind was quick now to blow away the wisps that tangled with the light and dragged him back into remembered Darkness.

"Anakin?"

Obi-wan lay pressed against the cold earth, his cobalt lightsaber at his neck. He looked scuffed and beaten, his paling red hair blowing in his face by the wind, yet he didn't move to brush it away.

But there was still the trust in his eyes. No fear, just trust. Waiting. For the lightsaber to move away, for Anakin to come back to his senses.

"Anakin, are you alright?"

Gasping, Skywalker pulled away, extinguishing his blade and turning his mask into the cold wind. If only he could feel it, maybe it would dry the clammy sweat from his scared forehead.

Oh, Force. Why wouldn't they just leave him alone? When would the damned nightmares fade, the memories stop dictating his life, the fears and old hatred stop taking over his senses and driving him to madness.

Choosing to remain silent, the Force didn't give any answers, but he thought he might have felt a reassuring brush against his cheek, where the wind could not reach him. Maybe he had been dragged back into that hell, even if it was only for a few minutes. At least he had been able to get a hold of himself before he had done anything he would deeply regret.

Turning back to his friend, Anakin offered Obi-wan a hand up. "I'm sorry, Obi-wan. I – I, . . . I don't quite know what happened. For a moment there, I thought...it was like being back on Sullest." He ran a hand along the top of his helmet, wondering what could have so strongly possessed him. The nightmares had greater power than he realized, if the mere steam off a lake coupled with the sunset could so easily befuddle him. "Are. . . are you alright?"

Kenobi looked his friend over, an eyebrow raised in concern. "Yes, I'm fine." The waves rolling off their bond told him his friend had been scared, but that fear had not led to Darkness. Whatever this had been, this trick of a deeply scared mind, it was not a brush with the Darkside. "My friend, I think its time you tell me."

Awkward, feeling like an apprentice, Anakin looked away as though distracted and shrugged. "About what?"

"Anakin." With that tone, the younger Jedi had to face him, shame-faced. "About these dreams. These Force visions."

Sighing, Anakin fingered his new lightsaber. "It's not as bad as you think. Nothing like that has ever happened before. And there's nothing to talk about, Obi-wan. It's something I have to live with the rest of my life, these memories of what I did. Of my crimes. It's just that ever since I started my training again, they've come back, stronger than before. There are some nights. . . "

"And you didn't tell me any of this why?"

"I didn't want to hurt you any more than I already have."

He was surprised when Obi-wan laughed, but his friend's levity passed and Kenobi smiled sadly. With a reassuring hand on his friend's shoulder, the elder Jedi shared his strength and conviction with Skywalker, and Anakin silently drank in the love and understanding in that touch.

"These things will pass, Anakin. One day, it will all pass."

After that day, Anakin was careful to focus while they practiced with lightsabers. He very much doubted the dreams would come back to haunt him in another vision as they had that day, but he wasn't taking any chances. After meditating on it for a long time, he decided to take the unusual occurrence as a warning from the Force.

He was no longer an apprentice, just one among many Jedi. He was the Chosen One, with a destiny and a greater, darker purpose then the Council had ever considered. And he could not allow himself to be distracted, even by his grief and guilt.

It was a sign, Anakin decided, that the Force was with him.

* * *

Caslia


	26. Lightsabers: Chapter 5

It's good to know I'm already half way through with RotL 2. I never intended for it to take this long. I hope after I finish this I can get back to Sos, which I have abandonded for FAR to long. Key word in that sentence: hope. ;)

Other announcements: Everyone be on the look out, OT comes out on DVD September 19th. I'm enjoying college life so far. I have ideas for a new upcoming fic, but that depends greatly on how long it takes for me to finish this sucker. And, yeah, I think that covers just about everything for now. :D

Enjoy

* * *

Chapter Five:

Lightsabers

Two years and seven months after _Rebirth of the Light. . . _

* * *

They lay side by side in the dark, hands clenched in the dark, staring at each other even though they couldn't see through the night's shadows.

Padme's eyes roamed the darkness where her husband's mask was, recalling every curve, every angle. Gently, in her mind's eye, she ran her hand over each surface, smoothing away the metal till it was skin beneath her palm. She imagined where she touched, the mask disappeared and her Ani's face appeared, scarred and pale as it was.

Brushing lightly against her mind as he could not against her body, awestruck by the beautiful, intimate moments they could still share, Anakin listened to her thoughts and smiled sadly. Oh, how he wished he could be that man again, for her. Cradle her in his arms and kiss her softly, telling her how much he loved her.

_I still do_, she whispered in her mind, hearing him through his touching her with the Force. He reached farther, encouraged by her invitation. He sent her the image of himself now in her mind, silently explaining what he saw when he looked in the mirror. Padme giggled at his self images. _You're exaggerating_, her hand squeezed him in reassurance. _That's the image of an old man, worn down by the world._

_And what do you think I am, Padme? I tried to tell you, how the Darkness has eaten away at my physical self, almost as much as my soul. I didn't need the lava to destroy my body._

She scoffed and took the image close to her, imaging her hands caressing her face. Her thumbs brushed away the wrinkles around his eyes; the tips of her fingers ran across his skull and erased the creases in his brow. And when he opened his mouth to discourage her farther, Padme leaned forward in the vision and kissed his withered lips, giving them back life and passion.

Behind the mask, Anakin smiled. How could he have ever thought of leaving her, this wonderful woman who loved him despite his deformities? What angel was this that the Force had blessed him with?

_You should get some sleep, love._

_So should you, Ani._

Skywalker's skin crawled, thinking of the nightmares, of falling sleep and reliving Sullest again and again as he had these past weeks since his vision induced duel with Obi-wan. _I would much rather stay awake and watch you. You're so beautiful._

Though flattered, Padme refused to relent. _Ani._

_It's all I can do, Padme. Just watch you. Please, let me have at least that. That way, at least I can be with you, in your dreams. Go to sleep, Angel, and dream of me._ He reached his free hand and brushed a stray strand of silky hair back against the pillow, longing for its touch. _Dream of what I used to be._

For a long moment, Padme stared at her husband, not wanting to leave him. Wishing he would hold her as she slept. Wishing. . . She finally closed her eyes and Padme fell asleep to the comforting sound of Anakin's loud breathing in the darkness.

* * *

The day was cloudy and rain beat against the window panes constantly, a comforting rhythm to which Anakin meditated. He sat in the meditation room he had had added on to the house, on the hard wood floor, in the middle of the circular room facing the great bay windows that usually looked out on the rolling hills.

It was quiet and peaceful here, brought soothing calm to his aching soul.

A redeemed soul suffers, in those quiet moments, with nothing but their thoughts and memories to occupy them.

There came a quiet tap on the door and Anakin smiled, reached out to welcome his two children into the room. The door slid open and Luke stood in the doorway, looking curiously at his father's back. Leia hung back, watching her brother.

"Daddy?" she whispered into the quiet. "Can we come in?"

"Oh course, sweetheart." Anakin turned in his kneeling position and beaconed to his twins. Taking Luke's hand, his daughter entered the room and walked with the soft pitter-pat of a child's' feet across the wood floor. "What is it, Leia? Luke?"

His son didn't say anything, as he never did. But his eyes said he felt another's pain, and understood it. Wanted to heal it. The little boy reached out and wrapped his arms around his father's neck, pressing his body close to Anakin's armor, seeking warmth. Anakin wrapped an arm around his son and offered a hand to his daughter. She crept forward and snuggled in close, resting her head against his chest plate.

Sitting down, Anakin sighed and held his twins close. It was hard, having them being so closely bonded to him through blood. It meant they could feel his pain when they were nearby. And the last thing he wanted was to cause his beautiful children any pain.

They sat in the dark for a long time, listening to the rain outside. He almost thought they might doze off in his arms when Leia stirred and lifted her little face to his mask, smiling.

"Story?" Her little hand ran over his controls, around his armor. Finding padded leather, she gripped it in her fist and snuggled closer.

Smiling, Luke nodded and sat back, waiting.

A story? Anakin thought, searching for something he could tell them. He didn't know any stories a child might like to hear. He couldn't tell them a story about his life before his fall; then his life had been full of danger and, he realized, violence. The life of a Jedi was not the story for little children. His mother had once told him stories of the heroic Knights of the Republic, but somehow, she had left out all the misery that went with it, all the loss and death and loneliness that accompanied such a life.

Maybe Obi-wan might have known a story of some heroic Jedi Knight he might tell the twins, but all that came to Anakin's mind now was the depressing story of Ulic qel Doma and the years of shame and loneliness he spent after his own redemption.

He would just have to make it up as he went.

"Once upon a time. . . " was that how he was supposed to start? Anakin wasn't sure. "Many, many years ago, when your uncle Obi-wan and I were much younger than we are now, and your mama was still a young girl, we had a friend, named Jar Jar. Now, Jar Jar was a Gungan. Do you know what that is? Well, Jar Jar. . . "

Luke and Leia listened to the story and laughed as Anakin explained all of Jar Jar's silly antics, making up a story about the Gungan going on a trip from his home in the swamp to the palace of Theed, looking for something to eat.

And all the time, Anakin was wondering what had become of the idiot Gungan, if he had been killed in the Clone Wars or when Naboo had been attacked. And he thought of other friends, many of them he had personally killed, and how much they had been a part of or influenced his life.

He thought of wise Mace Windu, and serene Depa Billaba and noble Ki-Adi-Mundi. Of murdered Master Qui-gon and his soft, kind eyes. Eyes that had looked into a younger Anakin Skywalker and seemed to say they understood his innocent longings, his fears and dreams.

And for the first time, Anakin looked at his son and seeing that same look, felt the familiar light around his son. A familiar presence, bathing his younger child in its wisdom.

_Qui-gon?_

There wasn't an answer, and Luke didn't react, but Anakin knew, somewhere, the old master was watching, keeping an eye on things.

Why? True the twins were the future of the Jedi, even if Yoda did find other Jedi somewhere. But why keep such a close guard on his son?

The story ended and the twins curled back up in his arms. Soon, both were sleeping peacefully, sung to sleep by the song of the rain. But Anakin could not sleep, just as when he was watching his angel in the dark of the night. He stood guard over his children, wondering.

He should be honored, to see that Light in his boy, to know Luke would one day be a great and wise Jedi Master. That he had within himself the inner peace and the knowledge a younger Anakin had been driven to seek, only to find pain and regret.

But he wondered, and feared for his son.

Anakin knew all too well how easily gifts could be corrupted. . .

* * *

Sorry it's so short,

Caslia :D


	27. Lightsabers: Chapter 6

Another shorty. More next time.

* * *

Chapter Five:

Lightsabers

Two years and seven months after _Rebirth of the Light._ . .

* * *

The day the twins turned two, Anakin thought he was going to burst with pride.

Luke and Leia sat around the table in the family kitchen, stuffing their faces with cake, laughing, digging into buckets of ice cream, and had poor Obi-wan reaching for napkins every time he turned around.

At two years old, their personalities clearly defined them as individuals, not the tied-to-the-hip kind of siblings some twins become. Luke liked the quiet, and to contemplate what ever it was his young mind considered to be important at the moment. He loved going for rides on the swoop, feeling the speed and loving the rush. He liked mechanical things, but liked taking them apart to figure out how they worked even more.

He took after his father, Padme said, with a little frown between her brows. But Anakin knew it was out of concern for their son and not for his future as a Jedi.

Leia, on the other hand, was loud, active and determined to get her way. While her brother generally went with the flow, Leia had to have things now, her way. She liked to play with her dolls, dance, read her child's books about the galaxy and help her mother around the house.

From time to time, one might find her sitting quietly in a corner, her little face frowning and focused, as she watched Obi-wan or her father meditate. They would occasionally feel small brushes against their minds, as she investigated this strange power she sensed coming from them and from within herself.

Luke was far more advanced with the Force then his sister, but he hesitated in displaying his talents. The Force, he seemed to say in his silence, was to be used for important things, not trivial matters one could take care of on their own.

Whenever Leia used the Force, like now in an attempt to retrieve her fork she dropped on the ground, Luke would give her a disapproving look and his sister would get down to get it on her own. She may be the louder and more vocal of the twins, but Leia admired her brother and did her best to model herself after him.

"Okay, time for the special surprise!" Padme entered, carrying two boxes covered in bright colored paper and bows.

As mature as Luke seemed for one so young, he was still a child and he squealed just as loud as his sister and began to tear into the gifts as soon as they were handed over. Their parents watched on with pride as the twins dug through the tissue paper and Obi-wan chuckled at their obvious exuberance.

"Dolly clothes!" Leia gasped, pulling out a number of beautifully made outfits for her dolls. Padme's smile widened and Anakin, arms wrapped around her, gave his wife a squeeze. She had spent hours each night, when they knew the twins were asleep, sewing those outfits. Hours pricking her fingers and having to start over, hours of crying as she made the outfits ladies and commoners alike had worn on Naboo. Outfits she herself as a girl on her home planet had worn.

Among them was a small replica of her own wedding dress, and two Jedi outfits, one black and one beige, for the two boy dolls her daughter owned.

From within his own box, eyes shining bright, Luke pulled out his own gift. Three swoops, a speeder, a set of six small, bright yellow Nabooian fighters and a T-16. Anakin, too, had been busy, back in his little room where he had built his new lightsaber, making these toys for his son. He watched as Luke laughed with glee and clapped his hands. Then the boy picked up the nearest speeder, jumped down off his chair, and ran around the room making 'zooming' noises. Obi-wan jumped out of the way, saving the orange juice from being tipped over. Leia giggled, dancing one of the outfits around, then ran to get one of her dollies to try the dress on.

Anakin and Padme just looked on proudly.

Their little babes were growing up. Oh, they were still children, but they were growing so quickly, it seemed.

"I can remember like it was almost yesterday." Padme murmured, watching her son. "Just yesterday when they were born. They were so small."

Yes, Anakin thought. It was just like yesterday. And yet a life time ago. He thought back and couldn't imagine himself storming into what was now their bedroom, lightsaber drawn. Didn't want to remember the look of fear on Obi-wan's face, thinking he had come to kill, or steal, the unborn twins.

Had he ever really been that man?

As if sensing his father's confused thoughts, Luke ran over, swoop still in hand, and wrapped his little arms around his father's leg, looking up adoringly at him.

Beside him, Padme sucked in her breath, and waited.

But their son didn't say anything, just clung to Anakin and smiled like all the world was there, wrapped within his arms. Everything that was important to him.

Anakin knelt down beside his son and hugged him close, loving the boy so much he thought he might die from the wonderfully sweet pain.

"Happy birthday, son."

* * *

That night, if Padme was disappointed Luke hadn't spoken, still hadn't said a word even though he was now two years of age, she didn't comment on it, and kept her emotions well hidden. Instead, she curled up against her husband in the dark, something he usually discouraged her from doing, but tonight she won out.

In the dark, they lay together, thinking back on the two wonderful years their children had given them, and the many more they knew lay ahead of them.

"Thank you," Anakin whispered in the darkness. "Thank you for this blessed son and daughter." And if he was speaking to his wife who had born them, or the Force that had granted them, he didn't know for sure.

* * *

"How's your shoulder."

Obi-wan hissed through his teeth as he rubbed his left shoulder and knelt on the meditation room floor. They had been dueling earlier in the day and he had been too forceful in one of his blows. Obi-wan had blocked it, but only just, and Anakin had quickly deactivated his weapon when he realized through their bond that Kenobi's arm was about to give out. He noticed the way his friend was careful with the injury.

"Painful. I rubbed some ointment into it, but it still stings. You're going to have to be more careful with me, my friend. I'm getting old and coming apart."

Skywalker scoffed, "You're not old, Obi-wan! Thirty-five? That's not old! Now, Master Yoda, _he's_ old. When you're all wrinkled and bent over a cane, then I'll be worried." But his humor wavered and Anakin seriously considered the incident that had taken place earlier. "But you do have a point; I did use too much force."

"Don't let it concern you." Obi-wan counseled. "You're stronger that you used to be, both in the Force and physically."

"Drugs Palpatine's doctors pumped me with; in an attempt to rebuild what little muscles I have that still function normally."

Kenobi ignored the disgusted tone in his friend's voice. His physical problems were a touchy issue and he tired always to steer clear of them. "Your strength is a good thing, Anakin. Use it, when you fight. With your new style of fighting, it makes you a very formidable foe."

"I would trade it in, in an instant." Skywalker complained. "My old style was easier. Fast, like dancing. I had agility then, speed."

"And that made you reckless. Do you forget so easily what happened with Dooku? You were always doing things like that." Obi-wan frowned, shifting into a more comfortable position.

A rolling of the eyes. "Must we go over this again?"

"Yes. Because you need to have more patience, need to think before you act. When you fight, you've got to study your opponent, not just rush in blindly to face them. And remember to draw from others around you, or use the environment in which you're in, to your advantage. If we had worked together, we might have defeated Dooku."

"Not likely. He knew every move we were going to make," Anakin pointed out defensively. "How could he not? He was Qui-gon's master."

Obi-wan soured at the thought, thinking of his little conversation with Dooku while being held prisoner. The Sith Lord had gone so far as to suggest Master Jinn would have been disappointed in his apprentice, for going against his old teacher. Kenobi very much doubted, then and now, that Qui-gon would have condoned or gone along with anything the count was up to.

"That still doesn't mean you shouldn't have shown patience, Anakin. I'm proud of you; you've shown so much more these last few months. But" his frown persisted. "I still can't help but feel you're pushing yourself too hard. Trying to do and be too much at once."

The redeemed Jedi sagged, sighing. Yes, it was true. He was pushing himself far too hard, attempting too much. Even though for over a year now he had been using the Lightside of the Force, he still felt like he had to prove himself. Had to prove the Force had made the right choice in giving him a second chance when he knew he had done nothing to deserve it. If only he could become the Jedi, the hero, everyone wanted him to be.

If only he could make up for what he did. Maybe then the nightmares would pass as Obi-wan had promised they eventually would.

"You don't understand." He said at last, staring out through the windows. "I have to do this, Obi-wan. I have to prove myself worthy to be a Jedi again. I can't fail a second time."

Not knowing what to say to that, knowing any words of caution would fall on stubbornly deaf ears, Obi-wan sat and watched his friend, his frown growing ever deeper.

* * *

:D More soon! The last post of this chapter up next time and we begin a new one. :D

Caslia


	28. Lightsabers: Chapter 7

Okay, here we are. Last post of this chapter. Very excited. ;)

BTW, a training orb is one of those thingies Luke uses in OT, on the _Falcon_ with Obi-wan, when he first attempts to learn how to use a lightsaber. I searched the databanks online but couldn't find what they're really called. This is what I get for leaving my resource books back home instead of bringing them to college with me. rolls eyes

And this chapter is _way_ longer than I intended, which is why it took so long to get done. But I bet I won't hear any complaints. There's something for just about everyone in this one. ;)

* * *

Anyways, enjoy!

:D :D :D

Chapter Five:

Lightsabers

Two years and seven months after _Rebirth of the Light_ . . .

* * *

A few weeks later, there came a knock at the door. Unknowingly, it heralded a great change in the Skywalker's lives, one the herald would initially regret.

"Sabé?!"

Padme stood in the doorway, staring in surprise at her best friend. They had neither seen nor heard from the former handmaiden since the disastrous incident involving the dinner and her sudden departure. That had been nearly a year ago, and with all of her worries centered on her silent son, Padme had given very little thought to Sabé.

Her first thought was to ask her friend to leave.

The look on Obi-wan's face, and his quite desperation after Sabé's last visit had touched Padme, and she had been angry to think the woman would hurt the Jedi, considering how much they cared for one another. Sabé's attitude toward Kenobi on that visit had been caring, but dismissive, and Padme felt the need to protect him from that happening again. "What are you doing here?" She hoped her voice didn't sound too cold.

If Sabé noticed, and knew the reason for the tone of voice, she didn't give any indication. Her smile was somewhat apologetic. "I came to see the twins. They turned two last month, didn't they? I was on Alderaan a few days ago and picked up these."

She reached out and there were two children's coloring books in her hands, the covers depicting the peaceful planet and its people. In her other hand was two large boxes of crayons. "Can I come in?"

Padme felt tears in her eyes, already feeling bad for her harsh words. She swallowed an apology and quickly opened the door wider. "Oh, Sabé! Of course! Please, come in!"

She led her into the house, the home they had shared together in Padme's last few months of pregnancy and then as a reunited wife. They could hear a little girl's voice gaily carrying on a conversation with herself in one of the rooms and when they came around the corner, Leia looked up cheerfully from playing with her dolls.

Sabé gasped when she saw the little girl, then approached slowly and knelt down beside her. "Hi there, Leia. You probably don't remember me. My name is Sabé. I'm one of your mama's friends."

Staring at this familiar and yet not so familiar face, Leia sat aside her dolls and reached for the woman's hand. She held it, staring up into her eyes, and after a few moments, smiled.

"I know you." She said, much to Sabé's surprise. There was a brush against her mind and then suddenly, Sabé's head was filled with a barrage of memories, feelings. She saw herself standing next to Obi-wan, and then Padme, wrapped lovingly in that haze that fills all children's earliest memories. There was a warmth and comfort there, but it vanished as soon as she recognized it, and she realized she was back on the floor next to the little girl.

Leia was silent, looking down at her hands. Her brother, Luke, looking so much like a younger, healthy version of his father, was standing next to her, a very unhappy expression on his little face.

He had his hand resting on Sabé, but his disapproving eyes were on his sister.

"What . . . what just happened?" the agent mumbled, looking to Padme for help. But her friend just shrugged and looked at her son.

"Luke?"

"I shouldn't have." Leia muttered, looking up at her brother. "I forgot. I'm not supposed to use my powers that way." When Luke nodded and pulled away, she reached for Sabé's hand again and clasped it tight. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, sweetheart." Sabé laughed, "it's alright. You didn't hurt me. But I'm sure your brother is right. It's alright this time though, Luke," she explained to the boy. "Leia didn't mean any harm."

Seemingly satisfied by this, the boy sat down next to his sister and gratefully accepted the color books she gave them.

"He still hasn't said a word." Padme explained when they had retreated to the kitchen, a cup of tea in each of their hands. The mother clung to hers like a life line. "I just don't know what I'm going to do."

What could possibly be done? For what Padme had explained, Luke was more than capable of speech. He laughed, and sang quietly to himself from time to time. But he never uttered a word. So he wasn't simple. There was no damage to the brain.

"We thought maybe, it was because he could just as easily communicate through the Force. And let Leia do all the talking for him." Padme admitted. "and we've tried to discourage this, as much as we can. We know Luke understands. He's such a bright boy, even for one so young! But if this is the case, the only other way would be to separate them, completely. And I could never allow such a thing."

Thinking back to how that had been their plan two years ago, just before the twins were born, Sabé thought she understood. To protect the twins, they were going to have to be separated, so as to be properly hidden from their father and the Emperor.

After escaping such a terrible loss, it wouldn't be fair to ask Padme to do it now, now that it was safe for her family to be together.

"Sometimes I just tell myself it's the will of the Force, that there's some plan. . . "

Padme left off, staring fearfully over Sabé's shoulder into the hall. Knowing almost before she turned around whom it would be, the agent felt green eyes boring into her. Obi-wan stood in the doorway, a mixed look of longing and surprise written across his features.

Anakin entered behind his friend and stopped dead when he saw the visitor that had come unannounced.

There was one of those long awkward silences, then Sabé gulped and Padme woke from her trance. "Anakin, Obi-wan. We were just having some tea. Would you like some?"

She berated herself the instant the words were out of her mouth, knowing how they would hurt Anakin, but her husband didn't even seem to notice, merely looked at his old master, than stepped around the frozen man and into the kitchen.

Sabé stayed where she was, staring.

"How was your meditation?" Padme asked in a low voice as she poured another cup for herself, keeping her eyes on the other two.

"Lacking in foresight," her husband muttered, studying his friend with concern.

Obi-wan stood rooted to the floor, trying to struggle through his emotions. Oh, he was angry. There was no doubt about that. Here she was, after having been gone for nearly a year after so easily dismissing him. No word, nothing to let him know she was safe, hadn't been wounded or captured by the Imperials. Or that she was thinking of him. For a whole year, nothing. And then one day, she just shows back up in his home, unannounced, uninvited.

But as angry as he was, he was also thrilled. She had come back. Like she had promised, she was here again. And as easy as it was to say he hated her, he couldn't. Because it wasn't true. He loved her too much to hate her.

Force, Obi-wan realized. I love her.

Had he gone mad? He was a Jedi. A Jedi _Master_. He couldn't be as rebellious as Anakin and fall in love with a woman, no matter how much he cared for her.

_Damn her,_ Obi-wan thought, a bitter taste in his mouth, knowing it was sweet love mixing with the lonely future his duty and responsibility had condemned him to. _Damn her for coming back and bringing this with her._

But then he saw the look in her eyes, felt the regret and the guilt and knew she suffered as he did. And she also feared having hurt him to the point where he might turn her away.

And almost without knowing it, Obi-wan stepped forward and took her hands in his. Her eyes cried with gratitude as he pulled her close to his heart. They stared lovingly at each other, utterly unaware of the rest of the galaxy.

Padme sighed from across the room, remembering her own similar moments with Anakin, then took her husband's hand and pulled his quietly from the room.

"Best to leave them alone for a while, Ani."

"Are you sure?" Anakin joked, pretending to glance worriedly over his shoulder. "The last time a Jedi was left alone with a Nabooian woman – "

"Wonderful things happened." His wife interrupted, pointing to the family room where the twins lay on their stomachs, laughing and coloring in their new books. Anakin nodded and gazed adoringly at his children.

He was glad Obi-wan at last had found some measure of happiness in his life.

It made him all the more determined to fulfill his destiny and defeat the Darkness. To make the galaxy a safe place for his children and any that Obi-wan might have with his beloved handmaiden. For their children and everyone else's out there, who either suffered or were threatened by the rule of the Sith.

For children like Jan's little girl, and Mara.

With this in mind, he disentangled himself from his wife's arms and gave her a little squeeze, where a kiss should have been. "I had better go."

"You're not going to go practice, are you? How can you, without Obi-wan?"

"I have some training orbs I can use," he explained. "Let him have some time alone with Sabé, to work things out. Besides, these can help me practice fighting multiple enemies."

"Alright, just promise you'll be careful."

"Aren't I always?"

She smiled lovingly up at him and, squashing a brief stab of envy where Obi-wan and Sabé were concerned, he brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. Padme continued to smile, but Anakin knew, inside she was thinking the same thing.

He passed by the kitchen door on his way out, training orbs in hand, as quietly as possible. But it's pointless to try and sneak by a Jedi and the door swung open. Obi-wan, cup of tea in hand, looked questioningly at his friend. Inside, Anakin could see Sabé sitting at the table, sipping her own cup.

"Anakin? You're going to go practice?"

"Just a little," he confirmed, motioning to the orbs he had in hand. "I should be back before too long."

". . . You don't want me to come with you?" Obi-wan asked, but Anakin could see how hope and sincerity struggled inside his friend. So he simply smiled and shook his head, then cocked it in the direction of the agent. Kenobi smiled, then nodded. "Thanks. For understanding."

He watched his friend leave the house and head toward the hills where they practiced away from the house, then allowed the kitchen door to swing shut.

"Maybe you should have gone with him." Sabé reached for his hand when he sat back down and gripped it in hers.

"Anakin understands. He knows we need time to talk."

"We have the rest of our lives to talk, Obi-wan. Or just to be. As long as you're willing."

And, he knew now, he was.

* * *

It was a good day for practicing, Anakin reckoned as he blocked the stinging bolt of one of the training orbs. The sky was clear, with a light breeze, and though he could not feel it, he knew the sun made the day cozy with its warmth.

A good day for practicing. . . or falling in love.

He blocked another shot, then swerved on his heel to protect himself from a second. The tiny orbs constantly altered positions, firing unexpectedly from different directions. And with his eyes closed, Anakin relied greatly upon the Force to be prepared.

But he also drew from his own senses. The sound the orbs made as they flew through the air, the shifting of the dirt underneath his boots to remind him he was on safe, stable ground.

But his mind was elsewhere. Back to those days on Naboo, when his own feelings for a woman had changed his life, had changed hers. And not always for the better. But things were different now.

Surely Sabé and Obi-wan could be together.

Surely, now that the Order was destroyed, and many of the old beliefs with them, he and Kenobi could reconstruct it, and their lives, as they wanted to.

That was, he reminded himself, only if he got the chance to rebuild the order. And that would only happen if he proved himself worthy to the Force, by completing his training and destroying the Emperor.

On this note, Anakin reached to his belt and retrieved a seventh orb and activated it. In truth, he should only have been fighting with three or four, or they might prove to be too much for him alone. But Anakin knew he had to push himself.

Had to be better than he was. Than he had been.

Had to become that hero everyone so desperately needed, just as he had so easily become the villain Palpatine had wanted. He could do it again, if needed. He could change himself, better himself, if he pushed harder, worked harder. Never backed down from a challenge.

Eight orbs . . .nine. . .

He swung the lightsaber around, a constant cobalt flash of light surrounded him, blocking each little red bolt as it tried to reach him.

He could be better. He would have to be. Not for pride, or arrogance or even for guilt of his easy failings in the past. Not because he still wanted to be the greatest Jedi ever, a dream he had finally let slip away, staring into the mirror for the first time and seeing his ruined face. Seeing what had been done to him and maybe, somewhere deep inside, knowing it was a physical reflection of the emotional pain he had caused others.

Those he cared about, those he loved. Some he didn't even know, but his actions had caused nothing but sorrow in their lives.

People like Jan and her innocent dead daughter. Children like Mara, still trapped within the Emperor's dark grasp. What had he done to that little girl, since Vader had brought the babe to him? Was she still, somewhere deep down inside, just a child, like his own daughter? Or had Palpatine some how marked her? Made her his own?

A slave?

Ten orbs. . .

They didn't all fire at once, or one after the other. Some would sit silent and wait, wait until it thought he had forgotten about it. Then a red laser would come sizzling towards him and Anakin would have to react.

Sometimes they would all go silent, none of them moving, and he would use the opportunity to catch his breath, collect his thoughts. But they would always return.

He just had to be ready.

Like he would be, for whatever Palpatine threw his way. He would defeat the Emperor and his Darkness. . . and Skywalker's own Darkness. Oh, he knew all to well, there were traces left. Scars on his soul. Wounds that had healed but left terrible, eternal marks. But they didn't bother him as much as others might think.

We all have a little darkness inside of us, Anakin reasoned, blocking a shot at his leg while ducking one from above.

Just enough, to remind us we're part of a larger whole, part of a balance between the forces of good and evil. Some of us just go a little too far, is all.

Now he had all twelve orbs buzzing around, firing. He ducked and swerved, avoiding those he could not block by dancing around them. The orbs followed him as he went, waiting for his defenses to lower, as was their function. They were a good way to train for battle.

And somewhere in there, between the flashes of the laser bolts and the blue streaks of light left from the passing of his blade, Anakin's focus shied, for just an instant.

But it was long enough.

His focus wavered just long enough, and a bolt came blazing past his blade, past the tiny Force shields he could erect when concentrating.

At first, he wasn't even aware it had happened. He heard the sizzle, but thought it was a bolt against his blade. Dismissed it, till a second later when the Force around and inside of him suddenly panicked and he was momentarily blinded by an overpowering sense of warning.

When his 'vision' cleared, Anakin realized there were alarms going off in his helmet, lights flashing and he could hear a voice, but couldn't make it out. Everything was suddenly so strange, so distant. He reached out for something to hold on to, but his hand met only air. Feeling dizzy, he reached out with his senses but found only confusion.

And it was then he realized, he couldn't breathe.

Panic nearly overtook him, but Anakin strictly told himself to calm down. But it was hard, so hard to concentrate. Nothing made any sense. . . everything felt so strange. Not enough air to the brain, a tiny voice in his head whispered. . . but. . . but he couldn't seem to remember what to do about it.

He was. . . fading. . . his hand reached down to the control panel on his chest. . . his gloved fingers encountered something strange.

That wasn't there before, his muddled mind thought, running his hand over the scorch hole. How. . . how strange. Where had that come from? And how, he wondered, could so small a laser bolt destroy his respiratory system?

How. . . ironic, Anakin thought as he sunk to his knees, his thoughts flying about his head senselessly, like sand across the dunes of Tatooine. He reached out. . . for that comforting touch of home. . . his fingers found hard packed earth and tall grass instead. How ironic. . . he was so easily defeated, by his own foolishness. And not. . . for the first time either.

So this was what he been warned about, that day at the lake. This was what the Force. . . had been trying. . . trying to tell him. _Concentrate. Keep your focus_. Lost it once. . . he found himself being devoured by fire. . . .and lava. Loosing it this second time. . . he found himself reliving the vision, and for the first time, hearing the warning behind it.

He didn't even have the ability to call out through the Force.

Anakin watched as darkness crept into his vision, smothering him.

* * *

"Obi-wan? Sabé? Can I come in?"

"Of course, Padme." Obi-wan smiled, motioning for the young woman to feel free to enter the kitchen. He and Sabé still sat at the table, their cups empty but their hearts full of still unsaid things.

They had actually said very little, in the three hours since they had first sat down together. And, he knew, it was going to take a long time, for him to find the words to say the things he wanted to. To explain how he felt, and why. And even longer for them to figure out, just what they were going to do about this.

Love truly was a difficult matter.

"I'm sorry to bother you." Padme looked sheepish, entering with little Leia in tow. "The twins were hungry so I thought I might sneak in and get them something quick for lunch."

"Lunch sounds like an excellent idea." Sabé agreed, rising to offer a hand. She paused only long enough to give Obi-wan a look that clearly said they were not finished. He nodded in understanding. "I'll help you make up some sandwiches and drinks. Obi-wan, will you get out the chips?"

He rose to help, but stopped when the door swung open a second time and Luke came in. It was the expression on his face that stopped Kenobi cold.

"Luke?"

It must have been his tone of voice, because both women stopped and turned to look at the little boy who stood in the doorway. Leia, too, stopped her chattering and stared at her brother.

For the longest moment, he just stood there, staring at them all. His ice blue eyes pierced right through them, as though he could somehow see something they couldn't. Then he opened his mouth and said in a clear, serious voice, "Mama. . . Mama, we've got to _do_ something. Dad's in trouble. He's really badly hurt. He. . . he can't breathe. . . he can't _breathe_!!"

"Oh Force. . . " Padme whispered after she came out of shock, staring at her son. "Oh. . . oh, Luke!!" She didn't know whether to cry and hug him or just stand there till the shock passed.

When no one moved, Luke's brow furrowed and he reached for his sister. Without even hesitating, she took his hand. "Come on!" he cried, such seriousness sounding strange coming for a child who only now spoke his first words.

And before Padme or anyone else could think how to react, he turned and ran from the room, his sister following close behind. The door didn't even have time to swing shut before Obi-wan awoke from his state of shock and followed at a dead run.

"Oh, dear Force," Padme gasped. Without warning her knees gave out and she fell to the floor, hands out to brace herself. Sabé caught her, but they both sunk to the floor, too terrified to move. I've got to get up, she thought, trying to regain control. I've got to go with them! Anakin! Oh,Anakin! Please, be alright!

Be he wasn't, she knew. He couldn't breath. _She_ couldn't breath. Sabé's arms wrapped protectively around her, Padme took deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself, to regain control.

To keep both her and her beloved alive. . .

Luke led them, running as fast as his little legs could take him, toward the gently rolling hills and around the small groves of trees that surrounded the house. Obi-wan ducked the branches; savagely thrust his way forward, trying to run faster! Luke and Leia, despite their youth and smaller size, remained one step ahead of him, racing toward their father.

The Force guided Luke, taking them toward the hills where the Jedi practiced, some distance from the house so that their running nearly slowed. But when floating, humming orbs appeared in the distance, simply hanging motionless in the air, Kenobi picked his speed back up, determination lending him strength. He bypassed the twins and ran for the hill.

"Luke," Leia gasped as the Jedi Knight flew past them and her brother's pace slowed, "Luke, keep going! Daddy!"

"No, Leia." He responded, his tone sounding so much older it nearly scared her. "Obi-wan knows now. We need to go back." When she only looked at him, frightened and unsure, he turned and started back at a faster pace. "We need to get him to help."

* * *

When Obi-wan first caught sight of his friend, lying motionless on the ground, he thought he was too late. And a great cry rose up in his throat, one of helpless anger and bitter sorrow. Had they come so far, only for this?! He wanted to curse the Force, but the lump in his throat prevented cry of curse to escape.

He didn't stop running till he collapsed in the dirt next to his friend. Gasping, fighting back the tears, he pulled Anakin into his arms and reached out with Force, praying he would find anything, some small spark of life within the armor.

_Anakin! Anakin, answer me!_

And after a moment, there was a groggy, fading response, not even a word, just a brush against his mind. But it was Anakin's, and Obi-wan clung to that single hope.

_Don't die on me, my friend. Please, oh, please, Force! Don't take him from me._ He brought his own life force to bare, trying to share with Anakin as much as he could without putting himself in danger. That small flicker that lingered within the suit grew just a little stronger, fought just a little harder to remain.

Just a glance at the suit's systems told Obi-wan there was nothing he could do to replace them. A well aimed bolt had somehow made it across Anakin's defenses and struck a fatal blow. It had been damaged, but not beyond repair. If things had been the other way around, if it had been Anakin sitting here, holding his dying friend, he would have been able to fix it.

Obi-wan cursed himself and his lack of skills, cursed himself for staying and not coming with Skywalker, not warning him to be more careful. How many orbs had he been practicing with? A full dozen? Had the man gone mad?

No, Obi-wan thought, not mad.

_You don't understand. I have to do this, Obi-wan. I have to prove myself worthy to be a Jedi again. I can't fail a second time._ He had been pushing himself, had been for weeks now. Trying so hard to become better, to prove to himself he could make up for his wrongs.

Stupid! Obi-wan berated himself. Stupid, stupid not to have tried to stop him! Should have seen this coming, should have known! Should have been here!!

"Obi-wan!"

He looked up to see their speeder approached at neck-breaking speed. Sabé was at the controls, her face hard and determined, Leia next to her. Padme sat in the co-pilot's seat, her arms wrapped around her son. She looked like she had gone into shock. Luke stared at Obi-wan and his father, with those same expressionless eyes.

How, Obi-wan wondered, had the boy known?

He used the Force and was able to levitate Anakin's body into the back of the speeder and climb in after him, always keep a hand over the burning hole in the chest plate. Padme didn't need to see, she was terrified enough as it was.

"Is he. . . ?" Sabé asked, looking to him with eyes that said she wasn't as strong as she tried to act.

"If we can get to Home One fast enough, he might have a chance."

Sabé threw the speeder into top gear and the ground passed beneath them like they were in hyperspace. Hills, trees and farms passed them by in a blur. Everyone struggled to hold on, Anakin most of all.

* * *

:D :D :D

Caslia


	29. Blood of the Body: Chapter 1

Chapter Six:

Blood of the Body

Two years and nine months after _Rebirth of the Light. . ._

* * *

_Oh Force, oh Force!_ Obi-wan held to his friend as the speeder flew through the bright sunlight. The day was beautiful, not a cloud in the sky, as if nothing of any importance was happening. As if everything was perfectly alright. Like there wasn't a war, like Anakin wasn't dying here in his arms.

The light within Skywalker grew dimmer as seconds passed by.

Sabé in the front seat fumbled with something, then threw it back to Obi-wan, barely taking time to see if he caught it or not before turning back to keep the speeder on course. "Here! Put this on him!"

An oxygen mask. "Where did you get this?" he called over the roar of their flight even as he struggled to untangle the hose.

"Med kit back at the house! It's an Imperial system, so it must be Anakin's! Must have brought it with him off his ship when you moved in!"

Of course, Obi-wan realized. His friend was all too aware of his physical condition and must have taken precautions. But if that was the case, how was it Anakin's suit had been so easily damaged? Surely they would have known if the remotes had presented some kind of threat. Wouldn't they have?

Knowing he didn't have time to ponder any of this, Obi-wan reached for Anakin's helmet, intent on getting the oxygen mask on his friend and help him breathe.

If for one moment he wondered what he might find under the mask, he didn't let it stop him. Kenobi's deft fingers found the locks on the helmet and tossed it into the floorboard of the speeder. There wasn't any sound of air escaping, no change as he pulled away the mask. Whatever oxygen system that had kept Anakin breathing had completely shut down. Without thinking, Obi-wan covered their friend's nose and mouth with the face plate and slammed on the system.

Air was forced into Skywalker's lungs, then out again.

Obi-wan also took deep breathes, feeling for the moment, they had just that much longer to get Anakin to help. Thank the Force Sabé had a practical head on her shoulders.

It was then, with the air being forced in and out of Skywalker that Obi-wan calmed down enough to get a good look at his friend. What he saw at first horrified him, but melted away into pity and deep-seeded anger.

Anakin's once hansom face had been carved away. His skin was pasty white from lack of sun, and there were bags under his eyes that made him look decades older than his real age. He was missing part of one of his ears, his eyebrows, hair, everything, was gone. But it was the scars that touched Obi-wan the most. They weren't fresh, but it was clear they weren't that old either. Rigid and red, they crawled as if alive across his scalp and accumulated in mass just above his spine in the back. Beneath his left eye, one scar had come close to blinding him. Underneath the face plate, the once fine-chiseled mouth that had smiled in mischief had been twisted into distortion.

Glad his back was to the front so Padme could not see, though he she would have to sometime, Obi-wan pulled the ruined face of his friend closer in his arms and held him close, hand clinging to the oxygen system.

This, he thought to himself in loathing, this is what happened this day. This is what I did to him. No wonder he hated me. No wonder the Darkness came so easily to him. When he awoke and looked in the mirror, it must have been like waking from the horror of the lava to a living nightmare.

He must have been horrified, thinking Padme would ever again look at his face.

There were hot tears on his cheeks, and Kenobi brushed them angrily. How could he have allowed this to happen to his friend? His apprentice? The fall to Darkness, this mutilation? Had he been so blind to what was happening? So willing to simply stand back and say there was little he could do to stop it.

"Hold on, Ani. Hold on for just a little while longer."

When this gained no response, even through the Force, he sighed and gave up. For now. Turning his eyes away from the ruined face before him, Obi-wan considered the damage that had been done to the suit, taking a closer look now that he was calm. It still puzzled him as to how so much damage could have been caused by just a little blast.

It's true that while Kenobi had no where near the mechanical skills as Skywalker, he knew enough that when he pried open the control panel on the front of the suit, it didn't take long to assess what had happened. It wasn't so much that a shot from the remotes had destroyed any of the controls. Rather, the little electronic laser had hit the unit and sent an electronic burst throughout the system, a short circuit. It hadn't really fried any of the controls, but things had simply shut down in response.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Obi-wan sat back. The suit could still operate. They just needed someone who could get it back online, so that Anakin could breathe on his own.

There was still the concern though, that they had not gotten to Anakin in time. Obi-wan's worries returned almost as quickly as they had subsided. Even if they could get the suit back up and running. . . would Anakin be alive to use it? He was barely even breathing now. His lungs had completely shut down.

What if his heart stopped?

What if he was. . .

No, Obi-wan instructed himself. Don't even think that! Surely he had gotten the mask on his friend in time. Surely there was enough oxygen getting to the brain! How could the Force allow it to be otherwise?

He didn't want to think about it.

"Show a little of that Skywalker stubbornness," he instructed his unconscious friend. "Hang on till we get there. You'll be alright. You will."

The silence that replied did nothing to relieve his doubts.

"I called ahead!" Sabé shouted. "Home One has a medical team ready for us I the hanger. They've sent one of their specialists, a Shira Brie. They're ready for us!" She took a second to glance around, but if she was surprised by the white, mutilated face lying in Obi-wan's lap, her face didn't show it. "How's he doing?"

Worried eyes met hers, and Sabé took that as her answer to drive faster.

Glancing briefly at Padme, she saw the woman still had her arms wrapped tight around her son, staring straight ahead. Little Leia had snuggled up against her mother, but Padme seemed completely unaware of either of her children. She was in shock, and Sabé worried for her as much as she worried about Anakin.

Luke, who had kept an eye on his mother ever since climbing into the speeder, one of her hands wrapped in both of his, turned his ice blue eyes on the rebel agent. Little Skywalker surprised her for the second time that day when he smiled, even as small as it was.

It's going to be okay, she told herself, hitting the gas. Somehow, it's going to be okay. . .

The caves that had become Home One appeared in the distance, nothing more than black smudges in the shadows of the hills. But even seeing that was a great relief.

Sabé didn't bother to slow their pace as the hanger doors, set into the cave openings, slide aside with a great metal creaking and groaning. The speeder flew between metal door and rock wall with very little room to spare. No one in the speeder even blinked, and neither of the twins cried out. They were far more afraid for their father.

As the light spilled into the hanger, the first floor of Home One, and the only level above the surface, you could see the rock floor had been replaced to look like the interior of a ship. With eyes adjusting, Obi-wan glanced quickly around, impressed with what the rebels had accomplished. For all he knew, if not for the sunlight pouring in behind them, he might have thought they had flown out of space into a starship.

Out of the darkness, figures came running toward them, human and alien alike. Most wore the uniforms of medics; among them were a handful of rebel representatives. Sabé called a tense greeting and jumped out of the speeder to assist.

"Over here, quickly!" a young humanoid woman waved the others forward, then jumped into the back with Obi-wan and, without braking stride, took Anakin's pulse and checked his eyes. Her multicolored hair fell over her shoulders and across the chest of the redeemed Jedi.

"Stretcher!" One of the medics announced, positioning himself and another against a side of the speeder. Another, this one a Bith, climbed onto the back and grabbed the unconscious Jedi's legs. "Ready to lift?"

"He's fading fast." The woman barked, helping Obi-wan and the Bith lift. "We've got to get him down to the med center immediately. I want an IV plugged in asap, get a regulator on as soon as you get down there." She grabbed the oxygen system from Obi-wan and was out of the speeder before he could blink, her hair leaving a trail of fire behind her. "Get a move on, go, go!"

Working in perfect unison, the medics took off at a run for a lift that would take them to the lower levels. Obi-wan started after Sabé and the others when he thought about Padme. But she was no longer in the speeder.

Looking around, he found her already following the medics, children in tow. Obi-wan ran to catch up, calling her name.

"Padme! Padme, wait!" he grabbed her arm, unintentionally yanking her back so that she gave a cry. But she didn't look scared or angry, only cold and determined.

"Let go of me, Obi-wan."

"You can't go with them, Padme."

"That is my _husband_, Obi-wan! Don't you _dare_ tell me – "

"Listen to me, Padme." He got a firm grip on her shoulders so she couldn't get away, had to face him. "Listen to me. There's nothing you can do to help Anakin right now. They're going to do everything they can. The best thing you can do right now is look after the twins. Look at them, Padme. They're terrified."

Padme blinked, as if for the first time remembering she had children. Glancing down, she found Luke and Leia hiding within her skirts. Leia had her eyes squeezed shut, no doubt trying to imagine herself some place else. Luke was looking to the lift where his father and the medics had disappeared. He hadn't uttered a word since his exclamation in the kitchen earlier that day.

Taking a shuddering breath, she knelt and wrapped her arms around her children. Both twins accepted the comfort and Leia burst into tears.

"Mama! Mama, what's wrong?! What happened to Daddy?!"

"Obi-wan?"

Kenobi turned to find a familiar face, drawn and worried, looking from him to Padme and the children. Jan Solik, flight helmet in hand, gave Obi-wan a look that told him she needed answers, and now. "Is it Anakin?"

"Look, Jan, I – "

"Go on, Obi-wan." Padme said quietly, wiping away her daughter's tears. "Jan can help me with the children. You go with Sabé. If anything. . . promise you'll let me know?"

Kenobi nodded tersely, gave Jan an apologetic look, and took off in the direction the medics had gone.

* * *

"I want information on his medical condition pronto. Everything you can find out. How extensive are his old injuries, what kind of surgery has he undergone. What types of medication did they have him on. Everything you can get, even if you have to get someone to hack into the Emperor's own records. I want it and I want it now."

"Right away, doctor." The intern jumped at Shira's orders.

Red and orange hair pinned up into a tight knot now at the nape of her neck, Shira Brie pulled on her medic uniform as she ran for the med bay's operation room.

At forty six standard galactic years, the Firrerreo woman was considered one of the best medics on the rebel's side of the war. Even before the Empire had taken over, she had been well-known for her abilities, having been schooled at some of the best universities. Her inborn talents only added to her capabilities.

Being a Firrerreo humanoid, a species able to heal itself with unusual speed, Brie had also once been a candidate for Jedi training. However, her connection to the living Force had been weaker than those of her peers and she had not been chosen by a Master as an apprentice. Like other would-be-Jedi that didn't get the chance, Shira was sent to train with the Republican Corps, where she discovered her strength in medic and the healing of others. Her mainly dormant Jedi powers had saved her from the Purge at the rise of the Empire, simply by never being strong enough for Vader and the Emperor's minions to sense. She had continued her medical calling in peace, switching to the Rebellion once it was established.

How ironic, she thought now, examining the ruined face before her. Now, after all of this, here was Darth Vader laying before her, waiting for her healing touch.

Anakin Skywalker, she reminded herself, sympathy rising within her.

She was not a cold being, and after being told of Skywalker's passionate speech to the Council and his oath to destroy the Sith Emperor, Shira, like many other rebels, had sided with the former Dark Lord. He was, she had come to understand, no longer the monster he had once been under Palpatine's control. His story had spread like a wild fire through the rebel ranks.

And if even only the smallest part of it was true, Shira felt he had deserved the second chance the Council members had been willing to give him.

Well, now she was going to try to give him another chance.

"What's his status?"

"Regulators operational. He's alive, but only just." Her comrade and companion medic, a Gotal by the name of Gharritar, watched the monitors closely. "But there's no way to tell if further damage has been done to his lungs. And if we can't get the suit's system up and running. . . "

"We'll have to open his chest up and replace it." Shira nodded, worried. They would have to wait for the information she had sent the lackey to gather. She didn't dare open Skywalker up and try to replace the system already helping him breathe without some idea of his original operation. From what she understood, the wounds had been extensive, require many months of surgery and recovery.

Ghar turned and his red-tinted eyes, stared at her. "His friend outside is very worried."

Gotals are tall, weather-beaten skinned creatures with massive cones atop their skulls. These cones help them detect other creatures up to ten meters away, makes up for their poor sight (their eyes are for night seeing), pick up magnetic fields, help them sense other's emotions and have many other functions. In their time together, Shira had come to depend on Ghar to sense a patient's ills and how best to heal them.

Nodding, she turned and opened the door to find Jedi Master Obi-wan Kenobi wringing his hands, waiting.

"General."

"Is he alright?" Obi-wan looked over Brie's shoulder into the room, but a white curtain separated Skywalker's bed from the rest of the room. "Please, doctor. Tell me he's going to be alright."

Shira sighed and pulled the door shut behind her, stepping out into the hall. "We're going to do everything we can, General Kenobi. We have no way of knowing to what extent his lungs have been damaged, what are old wounds and what might be new. But we do have his breathing now. Until I receive more information, there's very little we can do."

"Oh, Force." The man's face fell and Shira felt her sympathy extend to the Jedi. From what she understood, Kenobi and Skywalker were close, and she could well understand his fear.

"Listen. We're going to keep him on the regulator for now, keep him breathing. His life signs are good, so for the moment, he's fine. I'm going to go over his files, do some research, find out what we can do for him. What I want _you_ do to, General, is find yourself a place to stay here on Home One. Get yourself and the Lady Skywalker as comfortable as you can. And I'll contact you in the morning, tell you what I've learned."

Kenobi's eyes went again to the door, as if he could stare straight through and into the room where his friend lay unconscious.

"What if he comes to, in the middle of the night?"

"I'm going to have an orderly on watch. If Jedi Skywalker awake, I can have them call you. You'll be the first to know. But, chances are, he's not going to just yet. His systems took quite a hit today."

Nodding, Kenobi sighed and tried to smile. "Thank you, Doctor. . . ?"

"Brie. Shira Brie." She held out her hand and the Jedi Master took it gratefully. "I promise you, I'm going to do everything I can for Anakin Skywalker. Tell his wife, she's welcome to come see him whenever she wants. Best not to bring the children, though."

"No," Obi-wan agreed, thinking back to that moment Luke had come into the kitchen, eyes shining. "Best not to."

* * *

Somewhere, Anakin drifted in darkness.

It wasn't cold here, like it had been in the Darkness he had known only a few years ago. It was quiet and peaceful here, and he couldn't quite seem to remember who he was or how he had gotten here.

There were no nightmares, nothing but the darkness in which he floated, unaware.

Then a presence touched his, unfamiliar but not unwelcome. It had a healing quality to it and Anakin liked that. He wasn't afraid. And when it would grow fainter or closer, he was never worried. Because he knew it would always come back.

In the soft darkness of dreams, Anakin waited.

* * *

Caslia


	30. Blood of the Body: Chapter 2

Okay, we're back. Hey, everyone! How are things going? Glad you like Shira. She's sorta a nod toward an older SW character from the 70's and 80's Star Wars comics. TJM suggested I borrow the name, cuz I was kinda without any inspiration that day. Anyways...

I didn't get all medical or technical or anything in this post. Partly cuz I didn't want to bore anyone, but also cuz I didn't want to have to do the research for it. :p So, if any of what I've proposed is impossible. . . well. . . too bad, this is SW. Anything is possible!

* * *

:D Enjoy

Chapter Six:

Blood of the Body

Two years and nine months after _Rebirth of the Light_. . .

* * *

In the darkness of her study, her face illuminated only by the light from her data screen, Shira sat hunched over the papers sprawled across her desk.

Nearly a full galactic day had gone by since Skywalker had been brought to Home One for treatment. She hadn't slept in those past twenty hours, had hardly eaten. Ghar had taken over just long enough for her to grab a quick shower and change clothes. Then she had taken all the information prepared for her on the Jedi's condition, filled a cup of coffee to the brim, and retreated to her study.

Sipping the bitter brew, Shira shifted through the papers for the hundredth time and pulled out the EEG scans they had taken earlier in the day.

Skywalker hadn't suffered any brain damage, which in itself was a blessing from the Force. Kenobi had gotten the mask of Skywalker quick enough that he hadn't suffered from lack of oxygen. The scan did show a bit of bruised tissue, but it was an old wound, and she assumed it was from the incident that had originally confined Skywalker to the suit.

But was he? Confined, that is.

It was this thought that had continued to keep Shira up in the late hours of the night, locked away in her office. It was why she was still sitting here, going over all the papers, through all the information. There was a loophole here somewhere. Something wasn't what it seemed to be.

Her chief resident had been able to get a hold of the majority of Skywalker's medical history, and what couldn't be obtained directly; she had called the techs and gotten a hacker on the job. Because the minute she had started to look over the reports, Shira knew there was something that was missing. For what she had understood, Skywalker's condition had been fatal, and the suit had been his only chance at survival. It meant a life as half machine, but it was life nonetheless.

And yet, from all the scans and tests they had done while Skywalker was under, it seemed that either his condition had improved (physically impossible) or the recorded medical information was incorrect.

When it came right down to it, she had discovered the report from some three years ago, when the accident had taken place, didn't match up with the tests and examination she and Ghar had done.

The lung damage was extensive, yes. And she very much doubted Skywalker would survive, even now, without a large amount of specialized breathing equipment. And he had lost his right arm and part of his left leg in previous accidents, during his years as a Jedi, or during the accident, she couldn't be sure.

He had taken a rather terrible blow to the waist during the incident, destroying some internal organs, and bones, only just missing his rib cage and lungs, but those had suffered damage enough for the gaseous smoke he had inhaled. All of this had been filled in with mechanical implants as to keep his alive. But the mechanical digestive system could not take solid or regular foods, so Skywalker was limited to either injections or vitamin pastes. His spine had been replaced with a strong type of alloy metal that allowed him to stretch and bend, and made Vader slightly more. . . indestructible.

What Shira didn't understand was why hadn't the Emperor's medics restored the damage that wasn't so serious? The wounds and injuries that could easily have been repaired?

Skywalker's ruined sight and hearing required little more than laser surgery. His facial scars could have been healed immediately, if only he had been dipped in bacta, even if it was some days after his accident. Even now, plastic surgery could remove the scars and help his facial deformities. His hair would grow back once he spent some time in the sun.

His mechanical limbs had been given no artificial skin or muscles, rather, they were nothing but machinery, covered with padding and black leather. Easy to replace with more realistic limbs.

If this wasn't enough to convince Shira of her theory, further investigation proved to her Palpatine had indeed intentionally allowed his servant to believe his case was hopeless. The old reports claimed Skywalker had sustained severe neural damage in the accident. Supposedly, not only had his sight and hearing been damaged, but his connections to his remaining limbs had been cut, leaving his immobilized. This was the reason they claimed to have replaced his nervous system, which would explain the scars on Skywalker's skull.

However, Brie had learned from her own tests, Skywalker's nervous system had never, in fact, been replaced, and was working just fine.

As for the replacement of internal organs, again Shira drew the conclusion Skywalker had been lied too concerning his condition. Or, at least, the situation. Even three years ago, a skilled medic could take DNA samples of the patient and easily find a matching, donated organ that the body would accept. If not, the growing of replacement organs had been legalized decades ago. And there was no doubt, Skywalker's condition was not so bad he wouldn't be able to accept the new organs.

In short, Palpatine had intentionally taken the broken body of Skywalker, patched it up and left the job half done. Purposely.

But why?

Shira didn't doubt the Emperor's evil. She knew all to well what he was capable of, and that he would go to any extent to get what he wanted. Was that was this was about? Had Skywalker's power threatened him so that to be able to control Skywalker, to own him but not feel at risk, Palpatine had subjected his servant to this kind of life?

Had Anakin Skywalker been made to live a lie?

In the quiet of her study, Shira sorted all the papers into neat piles and started again. She had to be certain. Before she took her evidence before Kenobi and Skywalker's wife, she had to be sure. The worst she could do was give them false hope.

She had time. The drugs they had given Skywalker to keep him under so they could run the tests had kept him down for a good while. After that, they had been somewhat worried when he hadn't come to. But General Kenobi had come by once more before retiring for the night and had informed them, after looking in on his friend, that Skywalker had gone into a healing trance.

That, too, had given Shira an idea.

But first, it would require some further research. She had to be sure.

"Ghar," she called the other medic over her comm. He responded immediately. "I want another check done on Skywalker. Do another nerve scan, cat scan, blood test, double all the reports. Have them brought to my office when they're done. I think we may have missed something."

"Uh!" he grunted in agreement, but then sighed. "Shira. . . you should get some sleep."

"Soon, Ghar. Soon."

Reaching again for her comm. After he signed off, Brie made a galactic call to a few old friends.

* * *

Some hours later, dead tired but her passion renewed, Shira hung up on the final call and scribbled the last of her notes. An Imperial deflector from a few months ago had worked in the medical archives in the Imperial Central Hospital and had brought with him data files. One of them contained files from Palpatine's personal medical facilities. Skywalker had – luckily – been among them.

There was almost no information within it at all, which made sense, considering he was the Emperor's right-hand man with a secret past. But the single report that was in the folder claimed that the Jedi had suffered in a battle during the recent Clone Wars. Whatever had happened had left him in a so-called fatal condition, requiring extensive life-support systems to survive.

The suit itself was a marvel. Looking at the schematics, Brie wandered at the mind that had been able to create such a wondrous monstrosity. It provided life, kept Skywalker alive, at the same time allowing for strength, mobility and speed.

But it was, nonetheless, a cage.

All of this, his injuries, the suits capabilities, made sense, except for the time the report claimed Skywalker had spent in surgery and then in recuperation. Apparently, whatever had happened require such extensive work had taken nearly five months! The time spent in therapy following was another full seven weeks.

Why would so much time have been needed?

Earlier conversations that evening on other calls with doctors across the galaxy had confirmed that many of Skywalker's wounds weren't anything out of the ordinary, and generally easy to deal with. Was it simply that they all happened all at once, or had it been the near ruin of his lungs that had resulted in the suit, and the easiest thing to do seemed to simply make that the answer to all his problems?

"Excuse, doctor?" One of the residents stuck his head in the room and handed her another folder. She nearly groaned when she saw it. "From Doctor Gharritar. More reports on Jedi Skywalker."

She accepted it and flipped the folder open, ready to reread everything she had already gone over in the earlier reports. Instead, right on stop with the results highlighted, was a nerve scan, and, scribbled in Ghar's basic handwriting, the words, "I think we've got it."

Shira didn't know what he meant at first, as the results looked just like those in the other report. But as realization dawned on her, she choked back a cry and rose from her seat. She ran from her office to the med bay where she found Ghar with one of the other patients, going over the chart. The Gotal looked up when he saw her through the glass, then excused himself and met her in the hall.

Panting, she pointed to the report in her hand, eyes wide. "Are you sure?"

"I'm positive. Ran the scan a second time myself, just to be sure. And what do you think about the blood?"

"What?"

He reached for the folder she clasped in her other hand and pulls out the sheet that had been under the new nerve scan. It was a blood test, highlighted just the same as the other, with the same old results. But again, there was that one small difference there. Something they wouldn't had noticed, unless knowing they were looking for it. Something the scan didn't consider to be important.

After all, they had been looking at the blood's content. What unusual substance might be _in_ the blood, rather than what _wasn't_.

"Force. . . " Shira read over the rest of the reports, checking to see there wasn't anything else. As if that hadn't been enough. "But. . . but surely this is physically. . . _medically_ impossible?"

"For a Jedi?"

"Still. . . I want to be sure, before we tell General Kenobi. . . "

"You think Skywalker knows?"

"I doubt it," she took the folder back from Ghar, placing the papers inside and taking a breath. "And I doubt his family knows it either. As soon as you're done with your rounds, let me know. I'll give them a call and bring them in. Right now, I'm going to go get some coffee – "

"Right now," her friend interrupted, giving her a stern look, "you're going to put down your work for a few hours and go get some rest." When she started to argue, he held up a clawed handed to silence her. "Shira, you look like the Seventh Hell. You need some rest, at least a long nap. Besides, how do you think General Kenobi and Lady Skywalker would react, coming in to find you looking like you were just in a battle? I agree, the situation is serious, but let's not scare them anymore than we have to."

There was no use arguing, she didn't even have the strength for it.

Giving him a grateful smile, Shira regretfully handed over the folder of Skywalker's reports. She would just get a few hours of sleep, then she would call his family and explain.

Just a few hours. . .

* * *

Nearly a full day later, a self-reproaching Shira called Padme Skywalker and Obi-wan Kenobi into her office down the hall from the med bay.

Of the two of them, Padme looked the worse for wear. Though her hair was brushed, her clothes ironed and her face washed, she looked as though _she_ was the real hell warmed over. Kenobi wasn't all that much better. He kept a comforting hand on his friend's elbow and directed her to one of the seats in the room before taking his own.

He sat with a heavy sigh and turned fearful eyes on the doctor.

"I'm sorry it's been so long since you've had any news," Brie apologized, pulling her seat from around the desk so she could be closer to the grieving couple. "But as your husband is stable, I thought it best to take my time before coming to you with anything."

"He is going to be fine then, isn't he?" Padme asked, forcing her hands to be still in her lap, not twisting around and fretting. She had to be strong, she told herself. For the twins' sake. For Anakin's. For her own.

"He's going to live, yes. The damage done wasn't all the serious. A little bruising here and there. Nothing I doubt can't heal, if it hasn't already, what with Skywalker being in a Jedi healing trance at the moment. Ah, General Kenobi," she turned to the Master, "might you be able to tell me something about this? My own training was very limited."

"You were a Jedi?!" Obi-wan gasped, feeling that fleeting hope that he might have found another former comrade that had escaped the Purges.

"Ahh. . . no. I was a student, but was never chosen by a master. I do have some limited abilities. But this healing trance. Just how much _can_ it heal?"

"If you're asking, can it completely heal Anakin, fully, then the answer is no. I doubt there's nothing short of a miracle could do that. Even Master Yoda isn't that powerful. The Force can't help Anakin grow a new arm or give him a pair of new lungs. But," Obi-wan looked thoughtful, considering the possibilities. He had never really considered Anakin not having tried a healing trance before. Of course, when first being injured, he had been a Sith, and healing required the Lightside. But, why hadn't he tired it since then? Had it simply not occurred to him? "But I can see how he might use it for some of his other wounds."

"His sight, for one." Shira nodded, pulling a paper out of a file on her desk and passing it to Kenobi. "His hearing as well. These are easy to fix, either with the Force, or through basic surgery. A number of his mechanical organs can be replaced as well, with acceptable donated organs, if the Alliance can get their hands on them. His mechnical limbs as well we can. . . improve. They're nothing but wires and parts at the moment."

She watched the other two to see if this meant anything, if they would draw similar conclusions. Obi-wan scrutinized the report carefully, trying to make sense of all the technical terms and charts. Padme simply gave a relieved nod.

"In addition. . . once we repair the damaged respiratory system in his lungs, he can equipe him with a different breather. One that, if we can repair his sight and hearing, won't require the mask any longer."

Padme gave a startled little gasp, then sealed her lips shut and looking imploringly at the doctor. There were tears swimming in her eyes and the Jedi, his own eyes locked on Brie, reached for his friend's hand.

"Doctor, are you saying. . . are you saying he won't need the mask any longer? That, that _hideous_ mask?!" She took deep breaths in an attempt to stop the tears, unable to believe what she was hearing. Could it be? Could her Ani finally be free of the mask that embodied all the evil he had once subjected himself and others to?

"My Lady Skywalker. . . not _just_ the mask. . . "

Padme couldn't help it; she burst into tears.

His mouth gapping, Obi-wan just sat staring at the doctor, not sure he believed what he was hearing. Then his face lit with a boyishly charming smile, pure joy in his eyes. Kenobi gave a hoot, laughter bubbling up from within and he threw his arms around Padme, laughing and trying to hush her tears of relief at the same time. They clung to each other laughing and crying for so long, Shira thought she should get up and leave the two to their private moment.

But just as she started to rise, Padme pulled away and grabbed the doctor's hand, clinging to it.

"Thank you!" she breathed, brushing the tears aside, unashamed. "Thank you so much."

"You don't have to thank me," Shira explained, knowing that as wonderful as that moment had been for them, there were hard ones coming now. She hated to ruin the moment. But they needed to know. Deserved to know. As did Skywalker, once had awakened from his Jedi trance. Or would he know by then? Had he ever guessed, just never known what to do about it? Would any of them, had they learned before this?

The Force works in mysterious ways, Shira thought. If not for his own foolishness concerning the remotes, Skywalker would never have undergone her tests. And then, they would never have known.

"When. . . how long will it take?" Kenobi asked, looking slightly more embarrassed about his emotional outburst. "And how much is possible?"

"Well. . . " Here she hesitated, balked when they had given her the very opening she had needed to explain their friend's condition. Reaching for more of her papers on the desk even as she knew it was only to further delay, Shira cleared her throated and wondered just how she was supposed to tell them. "General Kenobi, Lady Skywalker. . . there's something you need to know. These are all the reports of the surgery and the tests Jedi Skywalker has undergone, here at Home One. And these. . . these here are from his surgery after his accident."

Padme and Kenobi examined the papers together, exchanging confused glances. "Are these supposed to mean something, doctor?" the younger woman finally asked, handed the sheets back.

"Yes. See here, this is the neural scan we ran, as the old report" she pointed to the charts, "showed that he had undergone serious neural damage in the accident."

"What?!" Obi-wan barked, "That's not possible." When the women glanced questioningly, he glared at the report, "This can't be. I don't understand what neural damage he could possibly received. We were dueling, Anakin and I. We both received lightsaber wounds, but nothing serious. And then. . . " he choked on his words, and when he couldn't seem to find the right words, Padme spoke up.

"He fell into a lava pit, Doctor Brie. Landed partly on a ledge where General Kenobi couldn't reach him. My husband breathed in toxic fumes which destroyed his lungs."

Shira didn't dare ask how he had lost his leg, or received the saber wound that had nearly sliced through half his middle. It was all very clear now.

"Then I agree, there's no way neural damage could have been possible. Which is just as I feared, so I had them run more tests. And this time, instead of looking for nerves that were failing to work properly, we were searching for something _interacting_ with the nerves."

Their expressions remained blank. "Interacting?"

"Yes, like. . . a mini-device of some kind. They're not unheard of. Slaves have them implanted into their bodies. Diabetics as well, as to have their sugar levels monitored. So it's quite possible. I just never thought something of the sort could be made for a human's nervous system."

"Wait, wait!" Kenobi, looking flustered, ran a hand through his sugar-blond hair and reached for the papers again, as if he might find the answer there in plain Basic. "Are you saying. . . are you saying Anakin had some sort of neural implant, a _mechanical_ implant, working against his system?"

"Yes."

"But. . . why?"

"Palpatine." Padme stated, her face set in a dead mask. But her hands, gripping the leather of her breeches, was trembling.

Palpatine? Obi-wan shook his head, still unable to make reason of it all. Why? Why would the Emperor insert an implant into Anakin's nervous system? Surely that wouldn't serve any purpose, if there hadn't been any damage to that part of his body. What would be gained from it?

If the implants _interfered_ with Anakin's system, that would explain why his eyes were so sensitive to regular light. Or why his hearing had failed him and required the amplification of the helmet. Or why. . . why he had needed a _new_ neural system to be implanted into his body, so as to help him regain control of his limbs! A system that had only made him that much more dependant on the suit!

Shira watched as the realization dawned on Kenobi's face, as Skywalker's wife reached her own conclusions.

"Yes, the Emperor. Jedi Skywalker's neural system is working just fine. We don't quite know what the medics implanted as a 'new neural system', but we'll find out, when we operate to remove the tiny implants on his own system. After that, his sight, hearing, everything else, should be working just fine. After that, we'll dip him in bacta, so as not to add new scars to the ones he's retained from his original, though now I believe, false, operation."

"What about his lungs?"

"Oh, the damage to his lungs is quite real. A new respiratory system will be required, but I can assemble a smaller version. One that can simply be implanted into his chest and monitored. There's no need any longer for the suit." As wonderful as this news was, Padme was still livid with fury and her knuckles had turned white. Shira couldn't blame her. The extent to which the Emperor had gone to, as to make Skywalker feel loyal, grateful and submissive to Palpatine was extraordinary.

It said something about the Sith Master, Shira realized, something about his own levels of paranoia.

"But," she continued. "In time, maybe even that won't be needed." Two pairs of eyes turned, now utterly unbelieving, toward her. It almost was like a miracle, Brie thought to herself. Or at least, they must think so. In the length of only a few minutes, she had explained how their friend could be healed from walking machine to man again, a transformation that had seemed near impossible before they had walked through her door.

"There is one final report I'd like to show you. This one here, concerning the content of Jedi Skywalker's blood."

This one Obi-wan did understand, and he scanned it with hungry eyes, looking for whatever had so suddenly given Anakin magical healing powers. "Everything here seems to be right. I remember the day we tested Anakin's blood for midi-chlorians. The count was the highest ever recorded in the history of the Order. Everything seems to be in order. What's changed?"

"Our tests usually check to see if anything had been _added_ to the blood stream. Toxins and the like."

"But you didn't find anything."

"No. We found traces of now-absorbed chemicals that might have interacted with his system, but we didn't think anything of it, so the scans came up clean. But what we should have been looking for was if anything was missing. Look here, General Kenobi. Jedi Skywalker's white blood cell count is only thirty percent of what it should be. He is easily accessible to any disease or illness. What's more, Skywalker is unable to properly _heal _to any extent without aside aid. In other words. . . "

"Palpatine sabotaged his chances of healing!" Padme fumed, grabbing the chart from the Jedi to study it herself. "To see to it there was absolutely no chance what-so-ever his lungs might ever heal! To keep him trapped within that damned suit!"

"My guess is," Shira ignored to fuming woman, not wanting to be at the end of her fury when she finally erupted, "once we tackle his nervous system and replace his respiratory system, if Jedi Skywalker keeps up his healing trances, he should be able to repair his lungs. We can give him iron supplements, which will help him increase his blood cell count. With time, we can double the number of his blood cells and hopefully. . . with time. . . "

"Heal him completely." Obi-wan nodded, giddy with understanding and relief. "What could we never have thought of any of this before?"

"How long is this going to take?" Padme demanded, handing the papers back. "How long before you can completely free him? How long will recovery take?"

"Questions to which I have to answers. This has never been done before, not all at once. A month? Two? I don't know. All we can do it wait and see."

"I want to see him."

"As soon as he wakes up – "

"Now, Doctor Brie. I want to see my husband _now_.

* * *

Caslia


	31. Blood of the Body: Chapter 3

Hello, all my little darlings! How is everyone today? I know I said there wouldn't be a post till Friday, but I'm in such a good mood this afternoon, I thought I might get a jump on things and try and get a few scenes written, at least for a short post. The sky is so blue and the day so wonderful, I feel like I could just take a running leap and fly away! So, considering this is probably the mood Padme and Obi-wan are in now that they know Anakin can be healed, why waste the moment, right?

Yes, I do owe some ideas to _Force of Destiny_ for Anakin's condition. Remind me to write a little note to the author for thanks (and probably apologies as well ;) ) for these wonderful uncomplicated explanations of Anakin's injuries. I give her full credit for having come up with it!

(Which reminds me, on a minor note, in case for any reason anyone has forgotten, I don't claim ownership to any of the non-OC characters, except, of course, the right to make them suffer terrible bouts of grief and remorse. I'm not make any money, except for the cookies kind readers occasionally send me wink and all my fics are Ep III Spoiler Free)

You know, just in case anyone forgot ;)

* * *

Chapter Six:

Blood of the Body

Two years and nine months after _Rebirth of the Light_ . . .

* * *

From out of the soft, warm darkness of oblivion, he could hear voices.

They were familiar and comforting and he felt himself trying to answer them, felt himself rising up from the trance to brush their presences. Like someone just waking from a deep, dreamless sleep to a room full of sunshine, Anakin opened his eyes.

And shut them just as quickly.

This wasn't the light he had been expecting, thinking to open his eyes and find himself in a nest of cotton white sheets, in a ray of sunlight and the call of birds outside the window. That was his room back home, in the bed he shared with Padme. Where was he?

This light was sterile and far too bright, too offensive to be from the sun. And the sheets beneath him were stiff and cold. He listened for the familiar sounds that came with each morning, of birds and his children laughing and his own deep breathing, as though his body were still asleep.

His breathing. . .

Anakin's eyes flew open in a panic, everything returning to him in a flash of memory and his eyes attempted to sweep the room. But his vision was blurry and everything was out of focus! Where was he?! What had happened??

He could hear the voices, and knew they were his friends', recognized Padme's comforting humming, but could not make out the words.

They had removed his mask, Anakin realized. He lay before them, helpless, without his mask. Blind, deaf and yet somehow still alive. What had happened? How was it he was still breathing?!

There was a sudden spurt of shame as he realized that without the mask, they could see his face. They could see his mangled and deformed features, could see what had become of his once hansom face. He blanched at the thought that for the first time, Padme was seeing the monster underneath the mask, the ruined and broken man that was truly her husband.

He didn't want her to see him like this! Didn't want either of them to look on him and see the damaged piece of human flesh that was Anakin Skywalker! Wanted to turn his face away and hide it, wanted to beg for the mask.

Anakin tried to speak, but found something blocking it. Something plastic filled his mouth, his nose, forced him to breath, stopping his speech.

In his foggy, confused state, he nearly panicked. The light made him squeeze his eyes shut, and he couldn't focus enough to draw on the Force.

Oh, Force! What was happening?! What was wrong with him?

Then he left his wife's hand in his, a gentle comforting. And the warm, and strangely joyous presence of Obi-wan brushed against his mind. It was tinged with guilt and remorse, but also with love and so much happiness, Anakin thought his friend might burst from it.

_What is it?_ He asked, trying to speak as he thought the words, _What's going on?!_

_Calm down, Ani, it's going to be alright._ Obi-wan reassured him, smiling sadly in Anakin's thoughts. _Everything is going to be okay now. You're safe._

There was another person in the room, speaking softly but in authorities tones. The others were silent for a moment, listening, then nodded and started to pull away. Anakin felt his fear return and reached out for them, trying to bring them back. Obi-wan lingered a moment, his hand holding his friend's.

_Don't be afraid, Anakin. This is for the best. I promise you._

_What . . . what are they going to do?_ Anakin tried to reach out again, opened his eyes a final time to see if he could make the world become any clearer. Tried desperately to learn what was going on. But he was slowly slipping back into unconsciousness, this time not as a Force trance, but drug induced.

What were they going to do to him?! What was going on?

He faded back into that soft blackness, forgetting, and the moment might as well have been nothing more than a dream. A few deep breaths later and Anakin was gone.

* * *

"Did you explain it to him?" Shira asked as Kenobi pulled away from Skywalker and out of the room. He shook his head, obviously drained from the encounter but still smiling.

"No, he was in a very confused state, nearly panicked. He doesn't know where he is or what's going on, but he seemed comforted by the fact Padme and I were there. I don't think you should have any trouble with him during the surgery."

Padme continued to stare at her husband's face, a few silent tears making silver lines down her beautiful cheeks. But there was strength in her stance, and a determination in her eyes Shira saw only in the bravest of warriors. If she was disgusted or horrified at the sight of Skywalker's face, his wife didn't show it.

"Alright," she said at last, into the silence. "You have my permission to do whatever you think necessary, Doctor. I know. . . I know Anakin is very ashamed about his appearance. And I know he would give anything, _anything_, to be given the chance to live without the mask. But promise me you won't take any risks. I've already lost him once, and it was a blessing the day he walked back into my life."

"I promise you, my lady, no undo risks will be taken in your husband's surgery. I will do a great amount of the operation myself. And" unable to help herself, Shira winked and grinned, "I may not be strong in the Force, but it does aid me in some things. I assure you, no harm will come to Jedi Skywalker."

"When will you start?"

"If you want, we can begin in a few minutes. We need to prepare the room and get the required material together, but it won't take long."

Nodding, knowing there was nothing more they could do for now, Padme requested some time alone with her husband and the doctor left them.

Padme stood at the side of the bed, hand resting on the edge because she could not bring herself to reach out and touch Anakin. She didn't think he would wake again, not with the drugs in his system, but she didn't want to chance it. Didn't want him to look up and see the fear in her eyes, see the love, thinking she was feeling these things because of the way he looked.

She had known, the minute he had squeezed his eyes shut and tried to turn his head away that he had been ashamed that she had seen him.

And yes, to anyone else, his scars and his deformities might have been repugnant and repulsive.

And for one terrifying moment when they had walked into the room and the kind-hearted doctor Brie had offered them a warning before pulling back the curtains; Padme had been repulsed by the sight of Anakin. Had heard a thousand denials in her mind, screaming that this could not possibly be the beautiful face of her lover. His face was too gaunt, his features to ragged, his eyes too shrunken into his skull. Where there should have been bronze skin kissed by the twin suns was a dead man's face. No longer were there soft blond curls that framed his face in gentle waves.

No, no, _no!_ This couldn't be her Ani!

And then the moment passed and Padme felt anger at herself rising up and she felt the need to spit the bitterness from her mouth. What was the matter with her? Was she so vain, so shallow that one look at her husband's face and she denied him?

Ashamed, Padme had immediately beaten down the voices. For two years now, she had loved Anakin not for his appearance, but for his will power, his courage to keep going, to never give up. Had loved him for everyday seeking the Light within himself and struggling against his own inner Darkness.

Could she claim such strength? Could she have found it within herself to admit to having been so wrong? No! She had walked within this room, to give the most wonderful news to her beloved and had balked at the sight of him!

Before her eyes, as she had sat and held his hand waiting for him to sense them and come out of his trance, every scar had become beautiful. Every small change or wound had become a testament to the trials he had undergone, every struggle, both within the Light and the Dark, that Anakin had faced and overcome. In her mind's eye, she took the image of Anakin's youthful, unblemished face and melded it with the one before her. And in doing so, she found the similarities, found the traces that 

were left of the face that had smiled so naively at her the day of their wedding. Traces of another life, another man, that remained, just as the Light had remained.

At last, his eyes had opened, and ice blue eyes, glazed and afraid, had look around. And there in that look, Padme had again found her Anakin and gasped and the beauty of the man before her.

Despite all the faults, both inside and out. Despite the Darkness that he so vehemently insisted still remained within himself, Padme knew there could be no man more beautiful than her Anakin.

Now, sitting beside him, she wanted nothing more than to reach out her hand and brush those beloved features, to remove the oxygen hose that filled his mouth and kiss those chapped and colorless lips. She pressed her lips together to hold herself back, refusing to cry, either out of joy for the future Anakin was unaware of, or out of grief for the pain he had been subjected to in the past.

Soon. Soon they would have the entire future together. Everyday of every moment of their lives, to hold each other close and be together again. Soon, Anakin would not need to turn away, would not have to feel ashamed.

Turning to leave, knowing she had to despite wanting nothing more than to stay by his side, Padme looked to the end of the bed for Obi-wan.

She stopped in mid-turn and reached out a comforting hand to the Jedi Knight. Kenobi stood, arms braced, staring hollowly at his friend. He had not been crying, not here where others could see hi, but his eyes were red and swollen. Fighting back her tears for a second time, Padme moved around to the end of the bed and wrapped her arms gently around the shoulders of the Jedi, resting her head against his chest and whispering softly.

"It's going to be alright, Obi-wan. He's going to be fine now."

Wrapping his own arms around his friend, Obi-wan held her and sighed. "I know. I know he will be. But I can't help but feel. . . Force, Padme, look what I did to him? No wonder he hated me like he did. How can I blame him, seeing now what it was I did to him that day? This is all my fault. . . "

She made an admonishing sound and brushed a hand along his cheek, wiping away the tears she knew he was shedding inside his heart. "Don't say things like that. This wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was. Force, Padme! How did you think he got that saber wound in his side?!"

"You can't blame yourself for that, Obi-wan. Both you and Anakin told me what happened that day. It wasn't your fault! He attacked you and you acted in self defense! What else could you do? He would have killed you! And if he hadn't, he would have learned about Luke and Leia. We both know what would have happened then. Things happened like this for a _reason_. And now, the Force has given us this chance. To set things _right_."

"I know, I know." Obi-wan sighed and leaned his head against hers, cradling her smaller form close, as he had many times during her pregnancy when she was feeling abandoned and hopeless. "I just can't help feeling there should have been something I could do."

There was a soft chime to announce someone at the door, then it slid aside and Brie nodded apologetically.

"We're ready."

* * *

There was little they could do while Anakin was in surgery. Shira Brie had explained that this was only the first stage of his surgery. First, they would peel the suit off. Then they were, regretfully, going to have to open up many of his old scars that ran down his skull and his back as to operate on his nervous system. She was hoping they could remove all of the tiny micro-transmitters attached to his spine and skull, so as to allow Anakin full, unsupervised control of his limbs.

That would, she explained, be enough for today. She didn't want to put too much pressure on Skywalker's body at one time. They were already introducing iron into his IV so as to build back up his blood count and hopefully increase his healing process.

At the same time, back up on the _Medical Frigate_, a more advanced med center would get to work on growing the new organs from the DNA in the blood she had taken just before leaving Skywalker alone with his friends.

That was enough for now.

So Padme had retreated to her quarters, her heart lighter than she had thought it would be when she had left for the meeting. She would never have thought this possible. Truly, the Force worked in mysterious ways.

Obi-wan followed a step behind, not so certain.

Palming the door, they were nearly stampeded by the twins. Leia was talking a mile a minute, demanding answers as to what was going on and how her daddy was. Luke, in his usual quite manner, hung back till Padme had calmed and picked Leia up, then walked over and wrapped his arms around his mother's leg, burying his face in her skirt.

Bending down, Padme held both of her children close and nearly wept for joy.

"What's gonna happen, Mama?" Leia had picked up on her mother's good feeling and the big tears had left her beautiful brown eyes. She had her mother's strength, her strong backbone and was ready to take the worst.

"Oh princess! Your daddy's gonna be okay! He's gonna be just fine, sweetheart." She hugged both of her children, drinking in their sweet scent. Force, how she was blessed. "He's going to be just fine." She choked out again.

"But you're still crying." Leia pointed out and Padme realized she was, indeed, crying now, as she had not allowed herself to cry before, trying to be so strong. She was weeping out of joy, great gasping sobs that had nearly overcome her in the doctor's office. Now she could let the tears follow, holding her children and knowing everything truly was going to be alright. "Mama!" Leia cried, not understanding, unafraid.

Luke, as observant as ever, spoke up when his mother seemed incapable of speech. "She's crying cuz she's happy, Leia." He explained in his serious two year old voice. "So very, very happy." He patted his mother's hair, a gesture so innocent and sweet it nearly sent Padme into another round of tears.

Standing back from the moment, Obi-wan watched with some detachment as Padme spoke softly to her children through her tears and explained what was going to happen to their father. No doubt they understood very little of it, even Luke, so old for his age, seemed to only grasp that something important was happening, something wonderful for his father. But they nodded and were content, as long as they knew their dad was going to be okay and come back.

Not for the first time, Obi-wan wondered how much Luke _did_ understand. Did the boy ask if his father was returning, because he knew he had nearly lost him once before? Did somehow Luke have some 

sort of grasping knowledge of what had passed before his birth? There was no way to be sure, not until the child was older. Maybe it had been the mere influence of the Force, or maybe there was something more to Luke. Obi-wan wasn't sure.

The only thing he was sure of it at the moment was that Anakin was going to be okay, and that was all that mattered.

He considered staying and spending some more time with the Skywalker family, but decided against it and went in search of Sabé, whom he had neither spoken to nor seen since arriving at Home One and going with Anakin to the med center. What had become of her?

Sabé, he hadn't given a single thought, even when waiting for hear the doctor's report. Despite the wonderful moment they had shared in the kitchen just before Anakin's accident, and all the things that had both been said and gone unsaid, Obi-wan was uncertain yet again about their standing.

He loved her. And, he didn't doubt now, she loved him.

It was strange, to think it had taken this long for him to realize it. All this time he had been trying to be the perfect Jedi Knight and not allow her in, not accept what she had to offer. Partly because he was afraid it would make him like Anakin. A man torn between his duties as a Jedi and duties as a husband. . . and maybe even, one day, a father?

Did he want that? Obi-wan didn't know. Fatherhood was something he had never considered before, it was far too grand, and, truthfully, it scared him.

No, right now, all he knew he wanted was for Anakin to be alright and for Sabé and him to be together. Surely, after everything he had been through, that wasn't too much to ask. Surely he could be allowed to love this woman, to have her love him in return.

All these thoughts continued to run through his mind as he made his way down the corridors of Home One to her quarters. One or two people stopped to talk with him and engaged in short, mostly bureaucratic discussions concerning the war. Things had been happening that he had not been aware of. So secluded and concerned with Anakin's training had they been that he had heard nothing of the new ships and weapons the Rebellion had been able to purchase on the black market, or the successful strikes they had made. A few minor space skirmished had occurred, but losses were few. They had had some rather influential imperial officials join their ranks, as well as fleets of spacers offering aid in transporting goods and people, for a fee of course.

All of this was worth listening to and even learning more about, but Obi-wan's focus remained on Sabé and he eventually escaped each of his detainees and made it to her quarters.

When he knocked, there was no answer, and he got no response when he chimed. Finally, palming the door and finding it was unlocked, he entered, hoping to find her either busy, or a note explaining where she was so that he might find her. She had to be here somewhere.

There was, in fact, a note. A datapad lay on the bed, with a short explanation, explaining her sudden departure. They had needed agents for a mission and she had requested to go. Why? In short and concise words, so typical of her when she was hiding her feelings, Sabé explained she felt guilty to have intervened in their family, and that it had been her presence that had kept Obi-wan from being there for Anakin.

She felt, she explained quickly, that perhaps she was too much of a distraction, and should have realized a long time ago that her 'involvement' in his life would lead to 'complications' and 'distractions'.

Perhaps if he had been any other man, not a Jedi Knight who had never before loved, but rather one accustomed to rejection and heart-break, Obi-wan might have been angered or maybe even bitter. To find simply an empty room and a note that said so very little. Would have been irritated to have the chance to explain or console or even argue stolen from him by her sudden and cowardly departure.

As it was, he simply stood there, datapad in hand, and didn't know what to do.

* * *

Everyone enjoy your Friday and hopefully I'll get another post up for this weekend! :D

Love ya!

Caslia :D


	32. Blood of the Body: Chapter 4

Gah!! I've got to write a post but I keep sitting here staring at this blank page with the little curser blinking. . . blinking. . . _blinking_ at me!! What am I supposed to write! I don't know, _I don't know_! Why do I _do _this to myself! _Why?!_

It's been a very stressful week. . .

* * *

Chapter Six:

Blood of the Body

Two years and nine months after _Rebirth of the Light_. . .

* * *

Where once there had been oblivions, sweet, blessed emptiness, there was now the aching burn of pain, familiar.

It ate through his defenses, crawled its way into his thoughts, into the nothingness that he had become. Detached from the world, he had floated free, ignorant, at peace. And then the pain had come, at first nothing more than a niggling wisp. But now it battered against his self, against his cherished oblivion, demanding entry.

It was in this way Anakin came back to himself, climbing the rungs of consciousness as to discover the cause of the pain and to end it. So he could fade away again, just vanish back to whatever blissful darkness that had so lovingly embraced him.

But with consciousness, the pain became more intense, more demanding that ever before and he struggled against it.

_It's hurts! _His self cried, awakening to the true power of the pain. _It's like fire!_

Fire!

Anakin clenched his eyes tight and didn't dare open them. If he did, he would see the black ceiling of the Emperor's personal medical center. Would see the masked faces of the doctors, staring at him, implanting their twisted technology into his body to keep him alive. He would be back in that hellish nightmare that was his life for months on end after the battle at Sullest.

Force, had everything just been a dream? Was he that ruined, corrupted soul again, laying on the operating table, struggling to live?

Yes, he had to be! The pain originated from all the same places! From the back of his skull and down the length of his spine. His breathing was strained and Vader imagined the black mask sitting not to far away. Waiting. Waiting for the day his body would be healed enough to pick it up. Put it on.

Don the identity of the Empire and all the wretched evil it stood for.

What choice did he have? The Jedi Order was destroyed, by his own hand. Padme, his beautiful Padme, had fled from his side and he had broken his last ties with Obi-wan forever. He was nothing now. Nothing but a monster reborn to do his master's will.

"No!" he tried to scream, but it came out in a garbled croak, and as he tried to push himself up off the table, strong hands held him back down.

Anakin fought them, tried to cry out, to cleanse the stains of Darkness from his soul. But the hands were too strong and something was clamped over his mouth. He struggled, fighting back the pain, the fear, the awful, terrifying memories and finally, using all of his strength, forced his eyes open!

And froze.

The walls were not black. They were white. Bright, sterile white. And the face bending down over his, looking concerned but determined was the face of a woman with fire-red hair, a Firrerreo humanoid.

For the longest moment, all Anakin could do was stare at her, wondering at her presence, at the wrinkles around her eyes, at the small smile she finally managed as she saw he was no longer going to fight her.

"Jedi Skywalker. Welcome back to consciousness."

His breathing returning to normal, the blurry memories of his operation nearly three years ago receding, Anakin breathed a deep sigh of relief and lay back on the bed. Staring up at the white ceiling, he did a quick Jedi calming technique. The past years came back to him, slowly, seeming distant after all the time he had spent into the healing trance.

He was safe. Everything was alright. He thought of Padme singing softly in the kitchen of their home as she prepared sandwiches for the twins' lunch, of Luke and Leia racing in a wild game of tag around the house. Thought of Obi-wan staring out the windows of their meditation room at the falling rain, smiling in his quiet way. Anakin breathed a grateful sigh, both that he had survived the unfortunate mishap with the remotes and that he had awoken to find himself within the very real present.

"Feeling better?" The medic asked, smiling at him with understanding. He nodded to show he was, then blinked with surprise when he realized she was staring into his eyes. His mask!

Slowly, so as to not to bump any of the wires or encourage another spasm of pain, Anakin reached up with his flesh and blood hand and ran it down his face.

It was a familiar motion. He had done it ever since he had regained control of his limbs after that first operation. Refusing to look into a mirror, it had been his way to see himself, to feel the ruined flesh of his face and construct an impression in his mind's eye. He had seen himself in the mirror many times now, since his redemption. And had been horrified. But still he would run his hands over his face in the privacy of his oxygen chamber. A gentle reminder.

But this time, things were different. His hand ran along his scars and he blanched, having found the source of the pain. Why did his scars hurt, after all this time? His fingertips trailed along his mangled features, finding nose still broken, ear still ripped. But the oxygen cup around his mouth and nose was something new. His helmet had been completed removed, even the chin piece. Had the damage to his suit by the little remotes been so complete they had had to utterly remove everything?

He looked to the medic for answers, eyebrow raised, delighted in knowing she could see it, as delighted as he was horrified to know she could see his face.

That meant Obi-wan had seen him. . . and Padme. . . and the twins. . .

He choked back his revulsion quickly.

Too late for that now. What was done was done.

"Thirsty?" She picked up a little paper cup and brought it over to the bed. Helping his sit up, bracing him gently on the shoulders rather down the spine where his aching scars screamed, she removed the oxygen mask and brought the cup to his lips. "Go on, drink."

Taking a small sip, then more, finding he was indeed thirsty, Anakin downed the water and mumbled a grateful thank you. She smiled, and replaced the mask.

"You've been out for a long time now. A number of days in fact. General Kenobi brought you in nearly a week ago and put you into my care. I'm Shira Brie, a medic for the rebel base, Home One."

After a hesitant brush against her mind, not an invasion, just securing the truth of her statement, Anakin's eyes widened. _And a Jedi._

"Yes, a long time ago. A potential Padawan, but I didn't have the necessary connection with the Force. My talents were healing, albeit weakly." She examined him with careful but curious eyes. Anakin stared back at her with his ice blue eyes; letting her see anything she wanted, wanting her to see that everything that had once been Vader about him was gone. He may still be within the suit, but he was a Jedi now. At last, she nodded, pulled away. "They're right. You're not the man you once were."

_I'm sorry I fought you. I didn't realize where I was._

"Understandable. Besides, the drugs still aren't out of your system yet. We had to put you under for a long time during the operation, and sometimes they interfere."

_Operation?_

Brie stared at him again, a tiny smile playing across her lips. "Best I leave it for General Kenobi and your wife to explain. It's their place anyway, not mine. Are you feeling strong enough to stay awake for a little while longer? I can call them if you'd like."

Intrigued, Anakin nodded, and laid back after the medic had left the room, wondering just what had happened to him.

Surely, it was impossible for the remotes to have done_ this_ much damage, so much that it required any type of operation. The electromagnetic spark that had set off a reaction in his suit should have done little more than short circuit it. And while this may have proven fatal had Obi-wan not gotten him to the base for medical treatment, Skywalker very much doubted it could have been _this_ severe. What was going on?

He looked around the room for the accursed mask and found it just to his left on a low table, staring at him. He glared at it, despising its presence. He had seen it so often, its appearance was burned into his memory, as Anakin was sure it was into the memories of all his victims. The rounded black visual ports, the triangular breathing apparatus. He could see the lights reflected along the surface, but like a black hole in space, the mask seemed to draw all the light to it and swallow it whole.

It was then that it dawned on Anakin that he could actually _see_ the mask. Not just the general outline or shape or color, but the clear, definite details! He blinked, and finding his vision remained, his eyes flew across the room, searching in bewilderment.

There! He could read the words on that medical chart! He could see Doctor Brie in the other room through the class, watch as her mouth moved as she spoke to a holo. The threads in the unused blanket at the end of his bed! The contents within the medical cabinets, the heart-rate monitor beside his bed! Everything. In clear, perfect focus!

This discovery led to another, as his ears picked up the erratic beat of his heart replicated by the machine. He listened, shocked, all his energy geared toward waiting, catching the tiny, mechanical sound every couple of seconds.

There were other sounds, now that he listened for them. Mostly mechanical, but he could also distinguish the sound of the medics bustling about, could hear the soft footfalls of Brie as she returned to the room, smiling.

"Your wife and General Kenobi are on their way."

"I can hear. . . and. . .and see." He tried to say, forgetting the oxygen mask and having to repeat it through the Force. She must have felt both his shock and his delight at the discovery, despite her lack of potential, because Brie chuckled and wrote something on his chart.

"Well that's good to know. We hadn't been sure the operation was completely successful as we didn't have all the information. But here I am, getting ahead of things again. They'll explain everything to you."

Anakin waited in the med center, his eyes roaming around the room and ears straining for every new noise he could catch. His own eyes! He could see without help, could hear without aid! What had happened to him? Is this why his spine hurt? What had they done?

Just when he thought his head might rupture from all the questions running wild in his mind, the door to his room slid open and Padme burst into the room.

Anakin gasped, and found himself frozen, silent, in awe.

He had thought his first thought when he saw her would be shame and utter revulsion, know she was looking at his ruined features and trying to place them with the face of his younger self. But all of that flew from his mind the instant his eyes caught sight of her. He struggled to take her all in, to see every tiny detail he hadn't realized he had forgotten.

Now, without the digital holo screens within his helmet, Anakin lovingly caressed his wife with his eyes, remembering everything about her at the same time he was seeing it like it was the first time.

The slight curl of her silky hair that fell past her shoulders in gentle waves, dark shades of amber. The curve of her lips, the beautiful bridge of her nose. The softness of her eyes in which he thought he might drown. The blush on her soft cheeks, down which tears now rolled. The hollow of her throat he had kissed more times than he could count.

He drank her all in, as if in the passing of this moment, his vision would fade again, this time perhaps forever. Force, if he went blind at that very moment, he wouldn't care! He had seen his angel with his own eyes again for the first time in nearly three years!

And when his vision did begin to blur, he blinked, letting the tears roll unashamedly down his scarred cheeks.

"Padme."

It was choked, partly from the dryness of his throat and partly from the blockage of the oxygen mask, but somehow, somehow despite it being nothing more than a cracked whisper, she heard him. And in the next instant, she was down beside him, her arms around his shoulders, head on his still plated chest, weeping. Weeping, weeping till Anakin thought she might die, unaware he too was crying.

Though encumbered, he managed to raise an arm and wrap it around her, ignoring the pain caused by this embrace, ignoring anything but the woman in his arms.

When at last her shuddering had subsided and his vision returned, Padme raised her face to his. They stared at one another for the longest moment, deep brown eyes on ice blue. Just looking. Seeing the souls on the other side. Seeing each other for the first time in many years.

And then, her hand crept up to his face, her fingertips tracing along his cheek, along the scars. He just watched her, touched beyond words by the look of love and understanding in her eyes. She didn't care what he looked like, his angel still loved him. He didn't try to stop her when she pulled the mask away. But when her eyelashes fluttered and Padme closed her eyes, Anakin did start to protest, her soul hidden from his. But he never got the chance.

Soft, ever so soft lips, pink and sweet, brushed against his bloodless, chapped ones, gently. And then they closed over his. Anakin felt his eyes close, felt himself lost in the taste of her, in one of the most beautiful moments of his life.

They shared the same breath, the same life in those moments.

Then Padme pulled away, tears again glistening in her eyes but smiling. Gently, with regret, she placed the oxygen mask back over his mouth and ran a hand over his cheek. Anakin stared up into her face, refusing to look away.

Force, she was so _beautiful!_

"My angel." He managed again, finding his voice a little easier this time.

Leaning back down, she brushed her face against his, reveling in the contact. Her long sweep of silky hair fell across the side of his head, across his chin and he breathed in the scent, marveling.

In the seclusion of that moment, behind that silk curtain that kept them safe from all the galaxy, Padme laughed and held him close.

"My Ani."

* * *

Eventually they pulled apart, letting the galaxy back in. Anakin would have been content to simply stay that way the rest of his life, but he could feel his love's joyous anxiety, could feel Obi-wan entering the room now that the private moment was over. And there were so many questions to ask!

_Obi-wan_, he greeted his friend, trying for a smile though he knew it warped his lips into a slight grimace. He didn't expect Kenobi to balk when looking at his friend and wasn't disappointed. The Jedi smiled warmly, if somewhat sadly, and took a seat near the bed after pulling up a chair for Padme.

"Anakin. How are you feeling?"

_To tell the truth, not half bad now._ he joked, winking at Padme even though he knew she couldn't hear him. She smiled brightly in return, clutching his hand in hers as though she feared to let him go. _But my spine and skull feels like someone took a lightsaber to it. What the Force happened?_

"He's back is hurting from the operation," Obi-wan explained for Padme's benefit, then turned back to his friend. "Never, ever again are you allowed to practice on your own, Anakin. Apparently, I can't even trust you with that."

"If not for Luke, we might never had gotten to you in time." His wife smiled, her eyes locked on him. "He spoke, Anakin. Our son spoke!"

Luke. Luke had spoken! For a moment, his heart clenched in pain, grieved he had not been there to hear the words from his boy's mouth, hear his voice for the first time, his thoughts expressed. But then he was filled with such pride, such overwhelming love, he thought he might float right off the bed toward the ceiling! His son had spoken!

Encouraged by this, he coughed, pulled the mask away before Padme could stop him.

"What. . . what did he say?"

Tears in her eyes, Padme smiled and wiped them away with determination. "He said. . .he said 'Mama'," her voice broke, "'Mama, Dad's hurt!' He said you couldn't breathe and he was so very scared! But so very brave too! We were all so shocked by his having spoken, we couldn't move. Then he said we had to help you right then and ran out the door! I nearly died, I didn't know what to do! There were. . . too many emotions! I was so scared for you, Ani! I was! Don't you ever, ever do that again!"

She was fighting back more tears again, and Anakin admired her strength. His angel, a warrior in her own right. "Never, ever." He agreed in his frog voice, before placing the mask back on to draw an untainted breath.

At least, he thought, for the moment it was not his voice as Vader that spoke.

"Obi-wan got there before any of us," Padme went on to explain. "We got you into the speeder as fast as possible, and Sabé, bless her, thought to grab the extra oxygen mask as we ran out the door. We got that on you and raced to get here. After that, Doctor Brie has been taking care of you for us."

The elder Jedi nodded in agreement. "You're lucky. There was no damage done. From what we can figure out, the shot that got through your defenses must have set off an electromagnetic short circuit in your suit. Apparently, remotes shouldn't be used around certain types of equipment." Looking deeply grieved, Obi-wan scooted forward and locking his fingers together on the bed, sighed.

"I'm sorry, Anakin. Looks like once again, you ended up in the hospital because of my neglect for you well-being."

Surprised, though realizing belatedly he probably shouldn't be, Anakin sighed and glared at his friend. _Obi-wan, don't even start that. This was_ my _fault, thank you very much, and I won't have you taking the blame for this. I was just being careless. Typical, if you ask me._

"Yes, typical." Obi-wan agreed, smiling slightly. He still felt somewhat responsible, however. He guessed he always would feel guilty for anything that befell Skywalker, as he considered his friend his responsibility. And as much as Anakin denied it, he always was and always would be.

And not because of his promise to Qui-gon either, Obi-wan knew.

_That doesn't explain why my spine hurts, or the back of my head. What's going on? The doctor said you would explain it._

"So you've met Doctor Brie, then." Obi-wan nodded, considering. He and Padme exchanged a worried glance. How much could they tell Anakin? Even restrained in bed, his temper might be enough to do some serious damage, once he learned the truth about his condition. But, they had already agreed, he had a right to know. They would just have to break it to him gently. "You owe a lot to her, Anakin."

When the younger Jedi looked perplexed and Obi-wan didn't seem to know how to continued, Padme cleared her throat.

"Anakin, there's. . .there's something you need to know. Something important. Something wonderful." He looked back to her and smiled, its warmth reflecting in his eyes. Has he always smiled like that at me these past years, Padme wondered, behind the mask? She cleared her throat again, trying to find a way to tell her husband and at the same time not hurt him. "It's. . . I'm not sure how you're going to take it."

Gently, his fingertips ran over the back of her hand and he stared at her intently. Don't be afraid, he was saying. He wouldn't hurt her.

Taking a deep breath, Padme plunged ahead, trying to remember how the medic had explained it to them so she might help Anakin fully understand what was happening.

As he listening, her husband's eyes at first were confused, clouded. But then she could see realization dawn in them, watched as she spoke how they became angered and then when she thought he was on the verge of violence, the darker emotions subsided and he watched her with an intent gaze that scared her almost as much. Each word he seemed to been drawing into him, like it was oxygen, his chance at life, not the gas being pumped into his lungs. Those ice eyes stared at her, listening so intently she nearly stumbled on the words, but forced herself to keep going.

Padme wasn't afraid of him. If she had learned not to be afraid of the mask, and then had crushed those vain and shallow thoughts about his appearance, surely she would not be afraid of that Darkness within his soul.

When she at last finished, could think of nothing more, having explained he had already undergone the operations on his spinal nervous system, she waited in tense silence. For his part, Obi-wan simply watched the two.

Anakin was quiet for a long time after Padme had finished explaining. He lay, staring intently at the ceiling, no, _through_ it, staring out into space and maybe even back those three years ago. Padme waited, watching him, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing and the mechanical blip of his heart beat on the monitor.

At last, he looked back at her. There was fury in his eyes, but she could see he was succeeding in controlling his emotions. How much he had changed from the young man she had known! How proud she was of this man before her!

He didn't say anything to her, but Obi-wan moved, standing to fill a little paper cup with water and hand it to her. Anakin was now able to sit up on his own, very _very_ carefully, on his side only, and take the cup from her. He removed the mask, took deep gulps until the cup was empty and handed it back. But he didn't put the mask back on. His gaunt face was etched into stony fury. But they watched as his features smoothed themselves out, replaced with something akin to resignation.

At last, his voice sounding better, though still weak, Anakin sighed. "I guess I should have known." He reached for the mask and took a few deep breaths, still on his side, staring at Obi-wan. "Should have known all along."

Obi-wan just stared at his friend, feeling for the young man's new sense of betrayal. He hated to see Anakin this way, even though he knew it only brought him further away from the Darkside.

His friend's eye went back to Padme, and seeing her clenched hands and determined expression, he chuckled. "You don't have to worry, love." He told her, taking a few more deep breaths from the 

mask. "I'm not going to get out of control and send any medical supplies or the other beds flying around the room."

She smiled, despite the seriousness of such a suggestion. "Then can I assume it's safe to bring Luke and Leia in?"

Luke and Leia! Anakin clamped the mask back on, taking deep, deep breaths and laying back on the bed. Could he see his children? Like this? It was true that they had never seen their father's face. That he had never kissed them, never held them against him and smelled their sweet baby smell. But could he have them seeing him like this? This scarred, ruined man, on the outside at least?

And then, he wondered, was his face any worse than the mask he had worn all their lives?

"No," he said at last, much to Padme's disbelieve. "Not yet, at least. If what Brie says is true, if she and her team can do what they say they can, then I'd rather wait. Till I'm. . ." Suddenly understanding, his wife nodded and smiled, reaching for his hand again. He took hers gratefully and held it up against his cheek even as he kept his other on the mask, closing his eyes.

Her touch was pure bliss.

"The organs won't take much longer to prepare," Obi-wan explained. "The medics want to you rest a few days more before they start work on your lungs and scars."

"No," Anakin rasped behind the mask, "Now."

"Don't be impatient, Ani." Obi-wan chided. "We want everything to be done right, to be sure. Please, trust us. Trust Brie. Just give it some time."

He would have argued again, but Skywalker looked and saw Padme nodding, pleading with her eyes. He thought of holding her in his arms again, thought of holding her close and feeling the softness of her hair against his cheek.

Surely, he could wait, he agreed. Stupid to be so reckless and impatient.

"Alright," he nodded at last, much to their relief.

"Good," Padme stood, giving his hand a final squeeze before pulling away. "Glad you're in agreement. Now, you need to get some sleep, love. We'll be back in a few hours. Rest well." And she bent and kissed his forehead before heading for the door.

Obi-wan also rose and gave his friend's shoulder a squeeze. But when he started to pull away, Anakin's hand grabbed his and squeezed it gently. His blue eyes stared up intently at the Jedi Master.

_Thank you, Obi-wan. For what you did for me. I know. . . I know it wasn't easy. I'm sorry I scared you like that._

Kenobi chuckled despite himself. _Yes,_ he told his friend, _And as soon as you're healed and up on your feet again, I'm going to make you regret it every moment for the rest of your training!_

Because of the mask, Anakin couldn't laugh his usual distorted laugh, but his expressed amusement came through strongly in the Force and Obi-wan was fully reassured at that moment.

Despite Palpatine's treachery, Anakin would heal.

* * *

Caslia


	33. Blood of the Body: Chapter 5

Midterms are over! I'm free, free!! throws confetti into the air and dances in little happy circles The leaves are changing color! It's soooo beautiful! Nothing like this ever happens at home! Go outside, or two a park, or out into the country this weekend and just look at the landscape! It's so lovely, all the reds and oranges and browns mixed in with the greens! Okay, sorry, I'm rambling. I just love the fall. :D

Happy Halloween, everyone! My FAV time of year is FINALLY here! I have almost had my fill of Halloween! Wednesday my dorm did trick or treating for the kids for four hours, then I went to a Spook-a-thon, which is a Halloween literary event at my college, and last night for some five hours I played a creepy old woman who kills her granddaughter in the college haunted house! At the end, our group got told my the tour guides that everyone who took the tour said _our_ room was the best, cuz we had the most creative story and actually interacted with the visitors. Ug, am so tired! And have sooo much homework to do!

AND I have to go carve pumpkins for tonight's community Halloween festival!

The usual apologizes for the post being so late. Love me anyway, right? ;)

* * *

Chapter Six:

Blood of the Body

Two years and nine months after _Rebirth of the Light_. . .

* * *

Four years.

Almost four years locked away within that suit. To know he would be suddenly free was. . . beyond words. Incredible! Terrifying! As terrifying as knowing this might never have happened, that Anakin might have had to live the rest of his life within the suit, never knowing the truth. Living a lie.

Like he would have been if not for the voices. Those voices that had led him to Padme, to the twins. He might have gone on living without them, living within the suit, within Palpatine's control. Never free. Nothing more than a slave. For how long? How long would he have gone on, never knowing he could have had a family, could have been free of the mask? These past four years? Ten years? Twenty?

Would he have spent the rest of his life in the mask, in the Darkness, serving a master who had intentionally destroyed his life, his body, his soul? Would he have continued to worship that monster, while hunting for those who had been his friends?

How long, Anakin wondered, before he would have learned to love again?

Now love was as essential as drawing breath, as stale as it tasted now, coming through the oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. But soon, very, very soon, he would be free. Free to draw his own breath, to live his own life. To love, as he chose.

Anakin lay on his back in the bed, staring at the med center's ceiling, trying to meditate. But he couldn't seem to find his center. He was calm enough, drowsy almost. But there were all these 

thoughts in his head, all these questions. He kept wondered what might have happened, what might have become of him. Anakin could almost see himself, the dark figure of Darth Vader descending upon yet another victim, could see his dark shadow falling over the galaxy, saw everything inside him withering and dying without the love he so desperately craved.

In the warmth of the sheets, Anakin shuddered. He was focusing too much on the negative. He needed to think positively, about the future, not the past or what could have been.

Reaching out to the Force, he tried to create a vision of the future, of the life that would, surely, await him now. As a man, with all the dignity and humanity the dark vision lacked. Tried to see himself as a Jedi Knight again, rather than the pretender he had been all these months, struggling to find the Light while the Darkness clung to him like a second skin. Surely now it would be easier, with the remains of the past, the mask and the suit, gone forever.

But all he could see were Luke and Leia, their eyes filled with fear and confusion as they looked upon his face. Looked for their father in the flesh and the features, where once there had been metal and harsh angles and darkness.

Would they know him?

He thought of the first time he had held his children; his little Leia, as he held the newborn close. Thought of how she had looked upon his mask and smiled, loving him unconditionally despite it all. But even as he had wept for joy at this, so too had a part of him wept out of further revulsion.

The first sight either of his children had seen when coming into this world had been the mask.

And it terrified Anakin, even now, to think how his Darkness might have tainted them, might still taint them. How his past might reach out to destroy his children as it had so many other lives. Even his own, here and now.

For years now, that mask had been his face. It had been his shield and his protection and his only hope for life, as twisted and deformed as it may be. But he despised the mask, hated it through he knew it was wrong to, knew that a Jedi would have calmly accepted it and moved on.

But, as he said, he had been a pretender, for so long now. Had tried and had not succeeded to be a true Jedi because, do or do not, and he had been unable to do either. Anakin had desperately wanted to be a Jedi again, but the reminders of Darkness had held him back. Caught in between, he had tried and had still been trying, when the accident had occurred.

He was still, at times, uncertain whether or not it _had_ been an accident. The Force had tried to warn him before, in his nearly fatal duel with Obi-wan beside the lake. It had come to him in dreams and visions, amid the nightmarish reminders of his crimes. Knowing now what he was looking for, Anakin could read the subtle signs quite clearly. But still he wondered, had they been warning him? Or had the Force been putting thoughts into his head? Had it intentionally led him to make such a foolish mistake?

Why not? After all, it had done similar things in the past. Whispers in the shadows, driving him crazy till he fled the Empire in search of something, he knew not what.

And this is where it had led him.

Patience, Anakin chided himself. Just a few more minutes.

When the medics came for him, Anakin was calmed and ready. He couldn't silence the thoughts in his mind, the swirling questions, but he was at peace for the time being. Shira smiled as she pressed the 

commands for his hover bed to rise. Her two companions took hold at the far ends and began to lead him from the room.

"Are you ready?"

Anakin nodded, feeling excitement and fear and anxiety start to rise and squashed them. He had to be calm. . . at peace. "Yes. More than you can possibly imagine. How long will the operation take?"

"Some time, I'm afraid. A number of hours. The melding between your natural body and the mechanical systems the Imperial medics installed is quite extensive. Removing it and inserting the lungs will take time. And we need to be as careful as possible."

"That would be a very pathetic ending, I guess." Anakin chuckled behind the oxygen mask. "Think how it would look on the holo news. 'Darth Vader Suffocates in Rebel Surgery.'"

"You have a morbid sense of humor." Brie teased, and earned a wink in return. "You don't need to worry. This procedure is relatively safe and simple. I won't go into all the medical details, but basically, we have a system that will keep you breathing while we work. Inserting your new lungs after the mechanical system is out will be the shortest part, then it will take time to attach and meld it to the rest of you. The monitor we'll insert into your chest will be small, about the size of your hand, with prosthetic skin over it, so you'll barely notice."

"And it's only temporary?" Anakin had to ask. He hated the thought of more electronics, even when he knew it was necessary.

"You'll need to wear it for a year or so. Maybe more. It's to make sure your lungs don't give out on you, for any reason. If they do, it will kick them back into action. Much like your old system, except this time, the lungs are your own organs, reconstructed."

"The miracles of modern day science." Anakin half joked, but Shira could see he was worried.

"Deep breaths," she told him as they turned down another hall toward the operating rooms. "It will be okay." He silently squeezed her hand in gratitude.

Obi-wan and Padme were waiting for them just outside the operating room as they approached. Pushing himself up onto his side, still careful of the healing scars down his spine, Anakin smiled warmly for them but could see neither was fooled. He could see bags under his friends' eyes, and worry lines that hadn't been there before. Anakin was pretty sure he didn't look much better.

"Hey," he croaked when they stopped. His eyes riveted on her, Padme stepped beside the bed and brushed his cheek gently. He was proud to see she hadn't been crying. I'll be fine, he wanted to tell her. No worries, love. No worries. But he couldn't say that because he didn't want to have to lie to her, not anymore. Anakin had had enough with lying, for the rest of his life.

Skywalker started to say something, anything, to reassure her, but Padme spoke first, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "You come out of there in one piece, love." She whispered, smiling softly. "I know Doctor Brie told us it was a relatively simple operation, but I can't help but be worried for you."

"It's alright, Angel." He smiled and reached up to run his hand through silky strands of brown hair.

She stepped back and smiled bravely for him. Anakin watched her till the doors closed between them.

In the quiet emptiness of the hallway, Padme's hand found Obi-wan's and clung to it as they stood staring at the metal doors. They didn't want to think about what was going on in that room, and yet the fear of not knowing lay heavily upon each of their minds.

"He's going to be okay." Obi-wan said, his voice lacking conviction.

"I know."

"Brie is one of the best. She'll take good care of him."

"I know."

The Jedi Master's hand tightened around hers and Padme looked up to find fear written across his features, maybe even the quivering of the chin beneath his beard. She realized Obi-wan still very much blamed himself for what had happened to Anakin, both that day on Sullest and during the recent accident. If anything went wrong, it might be like loosing him all over again, for Kenobi. Death, rather than Darkness.

"He's going to be okay," she smiled, repeating his own words and patting their clasping hands with her free one. "You know he will."

Obi-wan looked down at her a smiled, admiring her strength and her vision.

Unaware of his thoughts, Padme started to pull them towards the hall, but Obi-wan hung back, letting her fingers slip from his. When she looked questioningly at him, he smiled sheepishly and shrugged.

"I'm going to wait here for them." He didn't need to say just in case.

She nodded in understanding and gratitude, then left to see to the twins

When Padme had gone, Obi-wan took up his silent vigil, pacing back and forth in the hall, waiting for word and reaching out now and again to his friend. Anakin remained at peace in the healing trance, but it did nothing to sooth Kenobi's concerns.

When Shira came out for a short break some four or five hours later, still only halfway through the operation, she found the Jedi Master still pacing, his feet drumming a frantic beat across the floor. His eyes were anxious when he turned to her, but she smiled and offered him something to help his nerves. Naively trusting, Kenobi drank it and when next Brie passed the hall on her way back to the operating room, he was slumped over in one of the chair, sleeping soundly.

* * *

The throne room of the Emperor.

The city that was formerly called Coruscate, now christened the Imperial Throne world, no doubt for egotistical reasons as well as strategic ones, sparkled outside. Through the window, cut in the shape of the Imperial symbol, it was like looking at the stars in space. As night had descended on the empty room, the glass became chilled under his gloves. But when he pulled his hand away, it left no sweat marks.

He wasn't afraid.

Couldn't allow himself to be. Then it would all be over. A wasted effort. It would all have been for nothing, the months of anger and regret and deep-seeded fury. All the soul-seeking, all the careful planning. He was ready.

In the darkness, he waited now. For hours, silent in word and in thought, he had made his way through the condemned hallways of the lower levels, up the unguarded lifts. Creeping along the 

hallways he had come, like a shadow, blending with the Darkness. He became a part of it, let it fill him as much as a being who wasn't in touch with the Force could. But just because he couldn't sense it, didn't mean he didn't know it was there.

Oh, he knew it was there alright. It left a sour taste in the back of his mouth, something the mask couldn't filter out as he breathed in, once, twice, calmly so as to slow his beating heart. It raced ahead of him at times, but he would always regain control.

He was a master at control.

He refused to think about what he was doing. Refused to think about what he would do when he arrive in the throne room, when they had spoken. Refused to think about the past and, more importantly, about the future. That, he would leave up to the others. To his unknowing conspirators. To the Jedi.

He thought briefly of Vader. . . no, of Anakin Skywalker and the other Jedi. Wondered if they would have agreed, that he was doing the right thing.

Probably not. Damn the Jedi and their code of morals. They had brought him to this. With their words and their truths. Damn them for taking away his birth right only to give him this noble cause.

And it was noble. He was sure of that.

No, don't think about it. Concentrate only on the moment. Take deep breaths, banish the fear. Think, don't feel.

He thought of all the reasons he had for what he was doing. Thought about the choices he had made, none of which he had yet to regret, and never would. He reassured himself with the logic he had used in coming to this inane decision and once again concluded this was the best way.

Boba Fett had always been a man of logic.

It was why he wasn't afraid. Why he knew he could go through with it. How he knew that, even though Palpatine might punish him severely for his first failure, he would come out the winner.

The silence of the dark chamber didn't unnerve Fett; he leaned against the window and waited. He didn't consider himself a sentiment sort of man, but somehow, all those blinking, shimmering lights out there touched him, if only somewhat. Where once he would only have felt indifference and slight contempt toward the people gathered around those lights, now he found a quiet, maybe even a desperate sense of hope.

Fett chalked it up to his youth and turned away from the window.

He was considering making use of the throne for the time being, his patience unwavering but his legs getting tired, when the doors to the throne room opened and a bent, hooded figure entered.

The bounty hunter had no doubt Palpatine had known he was here for some time now and only made his entrance when he saw fit. But Fett refused to allow the slight to bother him, as soon it would fail to matter. The important thing was, he was calm, centered, thinking logically and well prepared.

He wasn't afraid.

"You should be, bounty hunter." The Emperor rasped, climbing up the short set of stairs to the throne platform on which Fett stood. His body was not yet so deformed by his Dark dealings that he required a cane or his back was bent double, but Fett noticed Palpatine's hand lingered along the edge of the 

railing as he drew closer. "You should be very, very afraid of me. As should anyone, who has failed me in a mission, then gone into hiding only to return uninvited."

Chiding himself for letting the Emperor sense even that single thought, Fett stepped back to the right of the throne for the Emperor to sit. He cleared his mind, focused on not feeling anything.

"Two years, you've escaped my wrath," Palpatine hissed, watched with orange snake eyes from underneath his hood. "Two years. I congratulate you, Fett. You are second to none besides the Jedi and that traitor Vader."

"I did not come here for praise."

"No, no, of course not. Puppets require praise. Minions and servants require praise. Even," he scoffed, "the occasional pompous admiral and general require it. But not bounty hunters. Not you. You've come for something else. I wonder, Fett. What could it be?"

Boba imagined that if he had been Force sensitive, he might have felt the Emperor pushing at his mind shields right now, trying to get in. Trying to learn his thoughts, his feelings. But Fett had a mind like a steel trap, something he had inherited from his father. Jango had insured his son, as well as himself, would be well protected from such. . . invasions. He blocked all thought from his mind, focused.

"Truth."

The Emperor smirked, leaned back in his throne and eyed the young bounty hunter with something akin to both contempt and amusement.

"Laconic as ever, is see. Very well then, Fett. Truth about what?"

"About the employment and your involvement with the deceased bounty hunter, Jango Fett."

"Ahhh. . . you wish to know about my dealings with your father. Interesting. Why, I wonder?"

"You used him. You used him like you tried to use me." Vader had said they had all been nothing more than pawns and as Fett had looked back, had considered the makings of his life, of the events in all their lives, he had begun to see how this was true. Nothing more than slaves, chess pieces on a galactic board game. The Emperor had moved them about at will, to gain his throne. And still, they remained chained to him, in service, in fear.

And if there was one thing a Fett was, it was a free man.

"I _won't _be one of your minions, Emperor. I'm not to be used at will, then discarded like a pile of space junk." He felt his anger rising and allowed it to simmer for just a moment before squashing it again. It was good, this bitterness, this betrayed sense of fury. As long as there was no fear, no hesitation. "I am a bounty hunter. I am the son of Jango Fett."

In the silence following the proclaiming of his heritage, the Emperor leaned forward and sneered, his lips curly up and rotting, yellow teeth bared. "Poor little Boba." Palpatine mocked, nearly oozing with contempt. "Have you come to beg for your freedom, bounty hunter?"

With the complete absence of fear, Fett causally said the key phrase, locked into his helmets system, that would free him, and all the others, once and for all.

"I've got a better idea."

* * *

From somewhere within the peaceful drugged sleep he had entered, Obi-wan was hit by such a cataclysmic wave of pain and torment, he awoke screaming, thinking his body must surely be on fire.

But awake the dream did not vanish into the usual fog of nightmares and he nearly collapsed out of the chair. He could hear screaming, screaming, and realizing it was his own, bit his lip to regain control. The taste of salty warm blood brought him back from the abyss of pain. When his ears cleared, he could hear others calling, frantically, could hear harsh, familiar voices calling out orders.

The room materialized into the med center hospital on Home One, and Obi-wan's first thought was the operation had gone fatally wrong and Anakin was dying.

He managed to push himself up off the floor, the blood pounding in his ears making it hard to hear, and rushed for the doors behind which people shouted. They slid open at his touch and he found a room filled with frantic rushing about and shit forms gathered around a bed. Even from here, Obi-wan could see the figure on the bed, Anakin, with wires sticking out of his chest and arms, the oxygen mask clamped over his mouth. He found himself frozen to the spot, watching as the body convulsed, a seizure racking his body and the medics trying to hold him down.

Perhaps worst of all was the sight of Shira Brie standing over his friend, her eyes hard and her gloves covered in blood, shouting orders.

Without thinking, he rushed to her side, pushing other medics out of the way. He barely noticed all the medical tools he sent crashing to the floor, the cart he tipped over, in his rush to get to Anakin. Someone grabbed his shoulder to pull him away, but Kenobi shrugged him off in anger.

Shira turned just as he reached her, her eyes melting into fear and desperation. He knew, almost immediately, that she didn't think there was any hope. Whatever had gone wrong, it was too late now.

"No!" Anakin's pale, scarred face, usually so boyish in sleep but now clench in pain. "What's wrong? Do something."

"We're trying, General. Everything was perfect, the lung was secure. Then he started having this seizure." Someone passed her a chart and she glanced quietly at it as others tried to staunch the blood flow. There were alarms going off, and the machines around them buzzed. Skywalker's shakes had lessened, but the blood continued to floor. "He's ruptured something. There's too much blood." She didn't want to say it was hopeless now, but Obi-wan could sense it, through the Force. Brie was searching her mind, frantic to find a solution but was coming up empty handed.

In desperation, Obi-wan hit upon the only thought that came to his mind. "Heal him!"

"What?"

"Heal him! You said you had potential to be a Jedi Healer, so reach out to the Force and heal him! It's may be the only way!"

"I _told _you, I haven't had the proper training, there's no way – "

She didn't get to finish her denial before Kenobi grabbed her hands and held them over upon Skywalker's open chest, just above the pink lungs and the metal monitor he could see through the puddle of blood, pale skin and white medical sheet. Reaching out through the Force, finding his center, he pulled Shira with him, flooding her with the Force, touching her spirit as he had never touched another's, not Anakin's or Qui-gon's or Sabé's, before. And she responded, either willingly or because the Force gave her no choice, Obi-wan wasn't sure. But Brie reached out with the Force and found the Light waiting.

It surged through her, stronger than Kenobi would have thought it could, and sprang like lightening, blue and silver, from her fingertips. It arched across Anakin's body, into his chest and over his face, pale, as though dead. And then vanished, completely.

Then for the longest time, neither of them could see or hear anything. Oblivious to what was going on around them, they sensed only Anakin's body, the internal scars and wounds, the blood pumping through his veins and the lungs, beginning to rise and fall. His new lungs attached to his body now as though he had been born with them. Everything fit back into place, as it should have been, as though there had been no wave of pain, no seizure. The damage done was quickly reversed.

The silence that followed the completion of the healing was deafening.

Shira opened her eyes to find her hands sticky with blood but her patient alive and well. She and Obi-wan exchanged glances. Before either could speak, the medics who had stepped back as the lightening had flared briefly, stepped forward now to check on the patient. Finding his operation complete, they offered to sew him up in her stead.

Brie could only nod.

Quietly, constantly glancing at Skywalker as though he feared another attack, Obi-wan pulled her away to a corner of the room. He looked down to find their hands still linked and pulled them apart, only mildly embarrassed.

"Are you alright?"

"What. . . what just happened?"

"You used the Force. Somehow. . . somehow, you reached out and you healed him. I've never seen it done like that before, though."

Shira stared at her hands, eyes wide. "That. . . that was the Force?"

Obi-wan couldn't help but shrug and smile. "It works in mysterious ways."

The medic started to say something more, but an aid burst into the operation room, gasping for lack of breath. Locating Kenobi, he called loudly and started forcing his way into the room as Obi-wan had done only moments before.

"General Kenobi! Lady Amidala needs you right away! There's something wrong with the children!"

* * *

Once the twins had been calmed and they had all been reassured Anakin would indeed be fine and was now sleeping in the post-op room, a weary Obi-wan and Padme decided tea was the only option. Collapsing in the little kitchen of her suit, they shared a pot, warming their fatigued spirits around their cups.

"I still don't understand what happened today, Obi-wan."

"Neither do I." The Jedi Master frowned into his cup, breathing in the aroma. "At first, I thought maybe it was Anakin that caused such a feeling. . . such an. . . _explosion_ in the Force. But Brie said 

before that, everything was going just fine, and it was only when he started to seizure the operation was about to be fatal. I'm thinking it must have come from somewhere else."

"Another Jedi maybe?"

"I don't know. This wasn't like during the Purges." He shuddered just thinking about it and was comforted by her hand wrapping around his. "Nothing like that. This was. . . this was like death a thousand times over, fueled by the most wretched hatred and fury."

Padme chewed her bottom lip, trying to reason it all out. "Leia wouldn't stop crying for so long after it happened. But Luke calmed down pretty quickly. He said he could hear people laughing and shouting for joy. He said it was like feeling all too much at once, that was why it hurt the way it did. I don't know." She shook her head, "Sometimes, I think he made more sense when he didn't speak."

"No. . . no, that _does_ make sense. I think I heard it too, now that he mentioned it. There was joy in that release of pain. I don't understand it. Padme, something has happened. And . . . I want to say its something wonderful."

She glowered, sipping from her cup and mulling it over. "Something wonderful that nearly killed my Ani? Obi-wan, how does that make any sense?"

"Maybe it doesn't. And then, maybe it does. The Force works in mysterious ways. The only way to know is to wait till Anakin wakes up. Maybe he'll know."

What else could they do?

* * *

Once again, sorry for the delay.

:D Go Fett! I heart bounty hunters! :D

Caslia


	34. Blood of the Body: Chapter 6

Credit for the latter half of this post goes to TJM. :D Thanks again for all your help and great ideas! There's actually more to this post, but I wasn't gonna put it up, as that would only encourage such awful behavior. ;) So, if you're interested in out-of-control drinking parties, cat calls for Padme and other rambunctious behavior, PM me and I might send you that part. :p

* * *

Chapter Six:

Blood of the Body

Two years and nine months after _Rebirth of the Light_. . .

* * *

Anakin's first thought upon waking, groggy and mildly grouchy after the effects of the drugs from pre-op, was that he was going to be sore for a lot longer than he had expected.

He vaguely remembered waking up a few times before, and judged it must have been some hours after his surgery. Only now was he coming almost fully awake. The drugs were wearing off and his body was telling him he needed to roll over or seriously regret it. Hoping there weren't any wires or tubes he would disturb by moving, Anakin shifted his weigh to his left side and groaned.

They'd left him lying on his back and his spine was far from pleased. He felt like they'd chopped him up and stitched him back together in some haphazard manner.

And his chest felt like it was on fire. What the Force had happened?

"Force, it feels like I got hit by lightening or something."

The minute the words were out of his mouth, Anakin sucked in a deep breath and his eyes flew open in surprise. He had heard himself clearly! There was no oxygen mask blocking his nose and mouth, no tubes, no breathing apparatus. His bare face, pale and scarred, was open to the world.

Tentatively, he placed a hand on his chest and felt it rise and fall beneath the sheets.

He could feel his heartbeat.

Sheets. Not armor or a padded suit. Bare skin just underneath the sheets. Closing his eyes, Anakin delighted in the feeling of the course cotton lying against his chest, in the touch of the pillow on his shoulders and the side of his neck. There was nothing between him and the rest of the galaxy besides this thin sheet and his own skin.

Nearly weeping with the joy of it, Anakin realized he was finally free.

Gently rolling onto his back again, ignoring the pain at the same time he marveled in the touch of bed, he sighed and lifted the sheet. Pale skin covered his chest, and a large, fading red scar started just below his chest and ran down to his abdomen. A few more bacta treatments and it would barely be noticeable. The skin around his ribs sagged, reminding him of his lack of proper nourishment beyond vitamin shots and pastes, along with the IV Brie had stuck him with the day he had first entered the med center.

Anakin couldn't help but smile, tears leaking out the corner of his eyes, at the thought of Obi-wan trying to build him back up with some of the Jedi Master's awful gruel. Even that would be marvelous, now that he had the organs to properly digest it. If such 'food' could be digested at all, he thought, chuckling.

They were his own organs. True, not the ones he had been born with, but reconstructed using his DNA. They were real, not mechanical or artificial, but real organs inside him.

Almost whole. Almost human again.

One look at his legs reminded him he still had to wait, though. While one was flesh and blood, the other was partly mechanical, as his right hand still was. Though he had gotten the best available when he was physically being reconstructed by the Emperor's medics, they were still nothing more than crude mechanics he had learned to control. Doctor Brie had explained to him to extensive advances in robotics since his first surgery four years before. Once his body was mostly healed from his more serious surgery, they would equip him with a new arm and lower leg, with prosthetic skin.

And his scars.

Soon, very soon he would be whole.

Surprisingly, he no longer felt impatient when it came to his healing. Excited, ecstatic, certainly. But he knew he could wait. Like the healing of his soul and mind, it had taken time to heal his body, but it had been worth it. There was no longer a need to rush.

Why be in a hurry? He had everything now! He had a family, he had a purpose! And he had a chance to right all his wrongs, to undo the damage he had done the galaxy! As unworthy as he felt for this second chance, Anakin couldn't help but be ready to take on the challenge and do his utmost.

"You seem pretty happy for someone who just woke up." Obi-wan teased. "That was a long cat nap, Ani."

Smiling as his friend stepped into the room, Anakin pushed himself up into a sitting position and groaned when his back disagreed with the movement. Kenobi was there in an instant, helping the younger Jedi sit up and get comfortable.

"Better?"

"Yeah, thanks." He watched as Obi-wan gave him a once over, then moved to the other side of the room, obviously not at ease.

"Thirsty? I can get you some water."

"Obi-wan, quit babying me." He chuckled. "I'm fine, really. In fact. . . I think I'm a hell of a lot better than fine! Obi-wan, I'm _breathing _on my own! Without a mask!" He sucked in a deep breath, reveling in the sensation and the sterile air of the med center. "You can't believe how wonderful this feels!"

Kenobi's face broke into a wide grin and he came to sit on the side of the bed, watching his former apprentice. He couldn't believe at that moment how lucky they were.

Here they were, after everything they had been through. After the war, and the Purges and the collapse of the Republic. And somehow, the Force had been kind enough to bring them all together again. To give them this chance. To give Anakin this chance. If someone had told him that day on Mustafar he would one day be sitting on a med bed, a recovering Anakin Skywalker next to him, reveling in being able to breathe again, he would have thought himself mad from grief.

And yet, here they were.

"No, my friend. I understand completely."

The two Jedi sat there, staring at one another, smiling. They were free at last. Free of the suit and the mask, free of the past that had loomed like a shadow between them. They were two men, two friends, realizing yet another battle had been won. Anakin felt like laughing as he sat there and drank in the image of his friend with his own eyes, of the man who had been both brother and mentor to him.

He could see the boy, Obi-wan thought, staring at the face he had struggled to find beneath the mask. Could see the same lively, strong-headed soul in Anakin's eyes, though now it mingled with guilt and regret. But he was there, whole.

"How are you feeling?" he asked at last, when he realized he had been staring for far too long. But, Force blind him, he had been worried. Worried about the surgery, and worried that he wouldn't be able to find his former apprentice in the face of this new Jedi. "Anything hurt?"

"My chest, somewhat," Anakin admitted, "and my back. Feels like I got hit by a runaway Bantha."

"You might as well have. We thought we had lost you there for a minute."

"What happened? I thought Brie said the operation would be relatively simple."

"Actually. . . I was about to ask you the same thing. Everything was going fine, everything was in and working fine, lungs included. Then you just sorta. . . " Obi-wan shrugged, and Anakin could tell his friend had been worried, even scared. He could see the shadow in his friend's eyes he was trying to hide. "You had a seizure of some sort. There was this sudden shock in the Force, this great wave of pain. And suddenly, you were shaking and struggling and the medics didn't know what was going on."

"And? Obi-wan, what happened?"

Kenobi frowned, pondering that very question himself. He wasn't quite sure just yet what it was Brie had done, or the both of them had done. One moment, he had grabbed her hands and lightening, like Sith used, had shot from her fingers and arched across Skywalker's chest. The next, he could see her soul, could feel her within him, could sense her presence as though she were a part of him. And all he could see was bright, blinding Light. And then he had returned to his body, the Force dropping him with a soul-shuddering thud and he was watching Anakin's chest start to rise and fall. "I don't know." He said at last, "Somehow, I think...I think I channeled my connection with the Force _through_ Shira, using her healing talent. I think my power and her skills somehow healed you. I don't know, it just doesn't make any sense."

"Sometimes," Anakin replied, a serious, thoughtful expression gracing his face at he looked at his friend, wondering, "sometimes, they don't. Sometimes they don't have to." He thought for a moment longer as Obi-wan continued to examine his hands, then to lighten the mood, reached over and squeezed Kenobi's shoulder with his good hand, intentionally a little too hard. "Looks like I owe you my life again."

"Don't get used to it, Skywalker," Obi-wan joked, rising to the bait.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

There was a chime as the door slid open and the aforementioned medic entered, smiling as she saw her patient up and grinning.

"Jedi Skywalker, you look better. How are you feeling?"

Anakin submitted her administrations as she did a quick check over. He managed to tell Obi-wan goodbye before she shooed the older Jedi from the room and gently began poking and prodding him. She checked his back, his eyes, ran a few scans to see how his nerves and new organs were doing. Gave him something light to eat and told him if he could keep it down, she give him something more solid later.

"You're not going to want a urine sample, are you?" he joked. Shira grinned but shook her head.

"Do you mind if I tell you something?"

"No." Anakin shrugged. There wasn't much she could say about his appearance or his condition that was likely going to bother him. Nothing that he didn't know already. "Go ahead."

"I have to admit, even though I knew all to well who I was treating, I am astonished as to how much you've changed. From what I knew about you as Vader, to how you were acting without the mask, to now, after the operation. You're. . . well, different."

He was, Anakin realized. For the first time in many years, he felt a lot more like the young man he had been, before the Darkness. Force, he _was _still young! He was barely twenty-five! But for so long he had felt weighed down, felt older, made so by his experiences and crimes and the damned suit. And in a lot of ways, he still was, only now, he felt it safe to joke, to laugh. To be alive again.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I didn't even notice it before."

"I think General Kenobi did." Brie casually mentioned, checking his IV and not looking at him. "No one really notices how emotional that man can be. But he is. There were tears in his eyes just now. And you should have seen him outside the operation room, pacing for hours. He was very worried about you, you know."

So Obi-wan _had_ been there during the surgery. Anakin had thought he had felt his friend, even as he drifted in his drug-induced sleep.

It touched him deeply, to know even then, Obi-wan had been there for him.

Padme, he knew, had been there as well, for a time.

"Could you call my wife for me?" he asked, feeling anxious and excited all over again. He could hold her now, if only for a little while. Wrap his arms around her and breath in her scent. Oh, Force, she had kept him alive for all this time inside the suit, kept him breathing. She and his precious children. Somehow, their love and faith in him had never let him give up.

"I wish I could. But Lady Skywalker is in a Council meeting at the moment."

A meeting? But Padme had resigned. Anakin felt a spurt of fear that something terrible had happened, then quickly crushed it. Obi-wan would have told him if they or the rebels were in any danger. "What's happened?"

"I'm not quite sure." Brie came now to sit by his bed, setting the medical equipment aside and merely examining him with her eyes. Her flame-red hair had come loose from her bun in the back and long strands fell like tiny waterfalls down her shoulders. "There was some type of explosion in the old Jedi Temple on Coruscate yesterday. While you were in surgery. The Council is trying to figure out which rebel cell was responsible for the sabotage. There's been no comment made yet by Imperial authorities. We're guessing they're trying to keep it quiet. They'll probably blame it on us in the end, even if we find out it was only an accident."

Nodding, Anakin leaned back and wondered. Could that have been what caused his seizure? It made sense. If people had died in the explosion, rebels he had known, or a large number of Imperial citizens, he certainly would have felt it. But to that extent?

Shira continued to watch her patient, curious as to his thoughts but unwilling to ask. What did he feel, this man who had once enjoyed killing others? How did he feel, when he heard others had been killed? Did it not matter to him, if they hadn't been close to him, hadn't been his friends? She didn't want to be unfair and think him apathetic to the war going on, but at times, Brie couldn't help but wonder about the murderer of the Jedi, lying here in her med center.

"I brought you something," she said at last, pulling them both out of their musings.

Reaching into a pocket of her coat, she brought out a small, rounded object about the size of her hand and passed it to him. Anakin took it hesitantly, aware the moment his eyes had fallen on it, what its nature was.

Slowly, he opened the mirror and peered at his reflection.

"I remembered there weren't any mirrors or reflective surfaces here in the center, and I thought, maybe, you might want to see." When he didn't say anything, just continued to stare, she coughed, embarrassed. "I know it was a little premature of me. We haven't done the scar treatment yet. . . "

"No," Skywalker said at last, raising a hand to run it over his face, blue eyes staring into the mirror, like he was startled. "No, thank you, doctor."

His face. _His_ face. Not the mask, but his own defiled, scared, pale, utterly human face. Bald and broken and ugly. But it was his. He had seen it often enough in the oxygen chamber abroad his ship, whenever he had dared to look. But then he had only seen the top of his head, the dark-rimmed eyes and the broken nose over the mouth piece. Now he could see the twisted mouth that was so hideous when it smiled, the scar that made his cheek cringe with pain when he spoke. His chin, his jaw, his ears, one torn. All his.

They were revolting to look at, and Anakin wondered how Padme had ever brought herself to kiss him. But he could live with this face, would learn not to wince when people looked his way. Even after surgery, some of this would remain; a reminder. But he would be content. It was a _human_ face, not that of the monster he had been.

"You're ashamed."

"What?" he nearly dropped the mirror in surprise, having forgotten Brie sat beside him, watching. Had his thoughts been so easy to read? Had she seen it on his face as his muscles twisted to express the feeling, or in his eyes?

"You're ashamed of your appearance."

"A little, yes." Embarrassed, Anakin tried to shrug it off, this new self-conscious self. "For so long, there's been the mask. I was safe, I could hide behind it. The suit was hideous enough; it reminded everyone of everything I had done as Vader, everything that made me the monster that I am. But at least they could remember. At least Obi-wan and Padme could think back to how I used to look and know _that_ was Anakin. Remember that that was who I still was, inside." But now they could see the truth. He had felt so free, only a few minutes ago. Now he felt vulnerable. Exposed.

The mirror in his hand began to shake, and Shira reached out and gently closed it. He looked at her and found understanding and kindness in her eyes.

"I think I have an idea."

* * *

"The plastics wards?" Ghar handed Skywalker's chart back to Shira after giving it a once over and shrugged. "Personally, I think it's a very good idea. But will Skywalker agree?"

"I think so. He's very self-conscious about his appearance now. No doubt he feels rather vulnerable without all the armor and the mask to hide him from the rest of the world. After the next surgery, he really won't have to worry about that. But I think it would be a good. . . learning experience, for him."

The Gotal eyed her with suspicion.

"What?"

"If I didn't know any better, I would think this was a collaborate effort between you and Master Kenobi to help Jedi Skywalker along with his healing process, both mentally as well as physically. You're going to put him in a potentially hostile environment, outside of restricted supervision, so he might have a 'learning experience'?"

"If it makes you feel any better," Shira grinned, "the general doesn't know anything about it. I was just about to introduce our Jedi to the rest of the patients. Care to join me?"

"I deliberately became a doctor with the intention of staying _out_ of firefights, thank you very much. You're on your own."

Shira hadn't told Anakin much about her idea, only that she knew of a ward where he might spend the rest of his time recuperating where he wouldn't feel so self-conscious about his appearance. She had failed to mention the nature of the ward and the type of patients within. So it was something of a shock when he followed her in, propped up on the hover bed, to see the mangled faces of a dozen men and aliens.

"Hey, Doctor Brie!" One of the men, a short red-head with half of his face melted away, called from his bed on the far side of the room. "We got a live one?"

Shira just smiled, used to the morbid humor of this particular room and the patients' crudeness.

"Put him over there," she instructed the aids, who lowered Anakin's bed down onto an empty cot in the middle of a row of beds. On either side of him, the patients called out greetings; the others on the opposite walls pushed themselves up to get a look at him. A few men got up and walked over, smiling despite the array of nightmarish faces surrounding them.

Where the Force had Brie taken him?

"Welcome to the Plastic wards!" one of the men who had come over shook his hand and pulled up a seat. "Or, Warped Ward, as we like to call it. I'm Tash."

"Tash," Anakin repeated dumbly, staring at the man's empty eye socket before he caught himself. He found he had suddenly become the center of attention for the entire room.

"That there is Fre'ih, that's Carl and he's Komkla. That one there we call Snot," Snot, missing a nose and aptly named because he continuously was reaching for tissues, waved from the far side of the room. "That there's Yewoq, and we've got Illvah. . . " the introductions went on around the room, the men nodding and smiling as each was indicated. Anakin's eyes followed, taking it all in. Seeing the twisted flesh, the burns and the scars. Their deformities, unlike his own, were relatively fresh, many startling, but the men seemed to take it all in good humor. They joked and called each other names and tossed books and balls around the room and even the Wookie, whom Tash introduced as Silence, seemed to be in good humor.

"Well, that's all of us." Tash finished, turning his one eye back on Skywalker. "Most of us are pilots. Got our ships blown to star dust and found ourselves here. 'Course, we're the lucky ones."

A number of the men nodded in agreement.

Rebel pilots. Men who had fought in the star battles and been wounded. No wonder their scars were fresh, they had gotten treatment immediately. "All of you? All of you are star fighters? I didn't think the Alliance had anywhere near this many men yet."

"Ah, we're not all pilots." A humanoid woman, the left side of her neck and lower all scarred tissue, smiled his way. "Some of us are techs, others runners. Some here are smugglers that work for the Alliance. Got us a few ground troopers even, like myself. I was on a scouting mission and stepped on one of those Force-cursed Imperial grenades." She grinned and threw an empty bedpan at a man a bed over from Anakin. "No offense, Rook."

"None taken." He tossed the pan down and Anakin could see he was missing the forearm on his left side, as well as having suffered some serious burn damage.

"You're an Imperial?"

"Yep," Tash nodded when he saw Anakin's surprised look. "Got us a few of them as well."

"I was in a star battle with one of the rebel squadrons a few weeks back. Engaged them over Qazuo; two entire flights of Tie fighters against one measly little rebel squadron, and they blew the hell out of us." Rook chuckled, looking not the least bitter about the encounter now. "I'll tell you one thing; I will never again underestimate the guts and the will power of the enemy." He threw Anakin a wink, something he would not have expected from a trained Imperial. "So anyways, after my ship got blown to hell and the admiral called them back, my flight left me for dead. I thank the Force the rebel leaders take better care of their men. One of the medic teams found me floating out there, ship systems barely keeping me alive, and brought me in for treatment."

"He's one of us now." Tash explained.

"So what's your story?" A Quarren lacking tentacles asked. The others shouted encouragements, poking and prodding at him. Tash just laughed and moved out of the way as others gathered around the bed. Someone bedridden across the room called that they couldn't see, and one of their comrades threw another bedpan at them. "Come on, man, tell us!"

"What's your story, huh?"

"And why are you so pale? What, is the cafeteria food _still_ that bad?"

"Hey, come on, guys," Snot admonished, grabbing another tissue before taking his place at the end of the bed. "Don't be so hard on the guy. He's new. So, what's your name?"

The sense of well-being he had felt growing since entering the room and being 'indoctrinated' into this strange brotherhood of the disfigured vanished almost the instant Anakin realized he was going to have to tell them the truth about who he was. There was no doubt in his mind that had he entered this room with the mask on, he wouldn't have gotten the same warm greeting as he was now. Oh, he knew they would still listen and be understanding. They were all going through the same thing, he could see. The same experience, having to deal with their deformities and finding it within themselves to still hope that the medics could help them.

But just because they would understand didn't mean they would treat him the same. He would be the outsider, the unwelcome presence, the murderer and traitor sitting in the room with them, listening to their banter and stories but never taking part.

He had been, after all, Darth Vader.

And despite the flood of new recruits that had come to the Alliance due to his 'heroic' redemption and the tales the Council had spun, Anakin very much doubted they would as easily accept him as they had Rook.

But maybe, just maybe, he could get around it.

No, no more lies, remember? Selfish, he thought, no to tell them the truth. Their warm smiles and friendly bantering was something he didn't want to loose so soon after gaining it. But he couldn't dodge the issue forever.

"Anakin." He said finally, waiting to watch realization, then disgust and finally indifference twist the mangled faces around him. "Anakin Skywalker."

There was a momentary silence in the Warped Wards, faces staring at him in shocked surprise. He waited for the accusations, or the shouts or the hard looks. But it didn't come right away. Anakin sat, holding his breath, waiting.

Then Tash gave a hoot and rubbed at his one eye as if he were dreaming. "Are you kidding me? You're Anakin Skywalker?! Well, I'll be a jawa's handmaiden! Hey guys, do you know who this is? This is _the_ Anakin Skywalker!"

"For real?" Snot moved closer, almost to the point Anakin wanted to pull away, terrified of getting oozed on. "You're Skywalker? Darth Vader, in the flesh? No poodoo?"

"No poodoo." Stunned, Anakin admitted to himself this was _not_ what he had been expecting. Suddenly there were more faces crowded around him then before, asking him a hundred questions all over again, none of them glaring or cold, no voices raised in anger or disappointment. And he couldn't help himself, he was smiling. Not his usual small smile behind the mask, but a large one that spread nearly from ear to torn ear, painfully twisting his scarred cheek. The other guys laughed and poked at him further.

"Force, I would never have thought that's how you looked under that mask!"

"Where is it, can I see it?"

"Force, look at him, you guys! He's just a kid! Can't be more than twenty-five! Young enough to be old Brie's son! Younger than me, even. What's a kid like that doing under that mask? Hey, kid, are the stories true?"

"Yeah, yeah! Did the Emperor really make that mask and armor out of Shadows?"

"Hey, what happened to your voice?"

"Ah, leave off him!" The woman called again from across the room, and the faces pulled back. Anakin was given breathing room, but he couldn't help the smile that had spread like wildfire across his face.

They didn't care. They were treating him like he was just another human being, like he wasn't some monster that had tried to destroy lives. They were laughing and joking and asking him questions. They had called him 'kid'. No one had ever called him that, not even Obi-wan, not any of the Jedi Masters. He looked around the room at all the other Warped Ward patients and got a wonderful shock.

As torn and mangled as they were, as ruined as some of their faces could be, if the medics weren't able to help them, these men and women, these pilots and traders and fighters hadn't given up. They were still living and loving and having a good time with life.

And they weren't afraid. They weren't afraid of what other people thought of them.

They were just making the best of what they had: life, and each other.

He opened his mouth to say something, not quite sure what, maybe to thank them for their kindness, for their acceptance of him, when a datapad flew over and landed in his lap.

"That's from Silence." Tash nodded at the pad as Anakin picked it up to read. "He was a slave on board one of the Imperial transports we intercepted. They had cut out his tongue, when he refused to stop demanding his freedom."

Skywalker winced, remembering having given a similar order concerning rebellious workers on one of the quarry planets. Cut out their tongues if they cry, their ears if they listen to or pass along rebellious whisperings. But not their feet or their hands. A footless laborer couldn't run, but neither could he carry stones and do his work. How had he not seen them as slaves, as what they truly were?

Anakin wanted to ask if that was the reason Silence was in the ward, but didn't.

The message on the datapad read simply: _How did you end up needing the armor?_

Tash motioned to the pad and Anakin handed it over, considering how much he should tell. "It's a tradition here," the patient said at last, shrugging. "Everyone shares how they got wounded, describes the incident. Doc Brie says its part of the 'healing process.'"

"And it makes for really good stories!" Another called from across the room.

"So," Tash chuckled, tossing the datapad back to Silence. "What's your story, Skywalker? The _real _story, that is. None of that Council-fed propaganda crap."

"Yeah, Jedi." Komkal cheered, as the men gathered around the bed again. "Tell us."

"I'd be interested to know," Rook volunteered, shifted in his bed so as to get a better view. "Just how is it a noble Jedi Knight of the old Republic becomes Darth Vader, then rebel collaborator, and ends up here," he waved his hand to encompass the Warped Wards, the medic center and all the patients in it, "of all places."

"It's. . . a long story," Anakin shrugged, embarrassed by all the attention.

Snot grinned, his battered face and lack of nose giving him a grotesquely mischievous look. "We're not going anywhere any time soon."

* * *

"I still can't believe you fell into _lava_!" Tash beamed after the story was done and the patients went back over the finer points. "I mean, man! Lava?! How does a guy survive something like that?"

"Well, I almost didn't," Anakin reminded him, shuddering with the memory. But the others just smiled and patted him (gently) on the back in reassurance.

"You're one real human wreak, man." Lasha, the woman, shook her head and smiled. "I say this calls for the Most Creative, Screwed Up, Warped Award!"

Cheers went up around the ward and some of the patients started to hoot and holler, pumping their arms in the air and calling for the award. They chanted his name and tossed around empty bed pans as Anakin sat in delighted shock, ducking as magazines and pans flew past him to other beds.

"Sky-walk-er! Sky-walk-er!"

"Hold it, hold on!" Tash stood up on the edge of a patient's bed, waving his arms in the air to get everyone's attention. When the room finally calmed down, he chuckled and looked around. "Okay, so you want to give Skywalker the award?" A loud cheer followed. "Well, just to be sure. Can anyone here beat falling into a live volcano?"

The men started throwing things at Tash now, yelling for him to shut up and get off the bed! The patient beneath Tash grabbed his legs and sent the pilot to his knees, laughing. Then the chant for Anakin started up again and the Jedi was sure one of the medics would come in here and berate them all severely for disturbing the peace. Instead, the door slid open and a young man with a perfect, smiling face entered.

"Hey, Aric! You're just in time!"

"Good to see you guys are in your usual humor. Got a call from Shira, something about a new patient here in Warped?" When Tash indicated Anakin with a nod of the head, Aric walked over and gave Skywalker a once-over. The man was tall and not much older than Anakin was, with a beautifully sculpted face he was sure women fainted over. Angel blond hair completed the heavenly image and made the Jedi want to squirm. But the man's eyes were understanding. "Hey there," he offered Anakin his hand and shook it vigorously. "Got to admit, you don't look as bad as half the guys in here."

"Oh yeah, and what about me?" Lasha teased.

Aric snorted mockingly. "How you doing, Rancor-face?"

"Better than you, fly boy." She shot back.

"Aric here is an old Ward patient," Tash explained, giving the healed man a look that clearly said, do not taunt the woman. "He's gracious enough to drop by every once in a while and do us a few favors. Mostly, it's just so he can show off his pretty face."

Laughing, Aric nudged Skywalker and winked. "Hey, if you had a face like this, wouldn't you want to show it off too? Don't worry, kid. The medics here can do incredible things. I used to look just as bad as Carl over there," he pointed to the redhead with only half a face. "Got a blaster right on the side of the face, middle of a firefight. Blind and deaf on one side for weeks. Laid in here feeling pretty sorry for myself, thinking I had nothing left. 'Course, that was before this was Warped Ward. Then, they just called it pre-op for plastic surgery and facial bacta dips. Once Home One was completed, more guys started to come in, and I realized, it wasn't all bad. So keep your chin up, it will be okay."

I don't doubt it, Anakin thought, looking around the room, at all the smiles. No one seemed bitter that Aric came back to visit and show off his face while the others still looked as they did. He was a part of their ward, a reminder that they all had a chance. And even if that chance didn't work out, he doubted it would ruin their attitudes.

Somehow, one checked self-pity at the door when entering the Warped Ward.

"Okay, okay," Illvah, the usually quiet one spoke up again. "You've given him your little pep-talk, Aric. Time for the award."

"You're giving this kid the Warped Award? What's he done, Tash? He's only been here a few hours and already he's charmed the entire ward!"

"Man survived falling into a pit of lava."

"Force, that was even better than the guy who got the award last time! By all means!"

Anakin looked suspiciously at the two. It suddenly came to him that with all the joking that went on around here, he might very well be in for something wicked. Something he might regret later. The only thing he knew was, he _definitely_ want to be a part of it!

How strange, that he couldn't wait to be a part of a prank, even if he was the victim. It had been years since he had taken part in any sort of fun like the members of the Warped Wards seem to have constantly. Even in his new life, he had spent so much time feeling guilty and unworthy, he had never indulged in simple games or teasing with any of his friends or family.

In a lot of ways, Anakin thought he might have been dead inside these last few years, as he had been as Vader, just moving mechanically through the motions. Oh, he had loved and been grateful to be alive and enjoyed the little moments. But he had never gone looking for fun or laughter, restraining his reckless self, remembering what had happened the last time he had let that side of himself have free reign. Time to change that as well then. Time to open up and have some fun and get back to living life. He could be a serious Jedi Knight with an important mission as well as a young man full of laughter as well, couldn't he?

"So what _is _the Warped Award?" he asked, ready for just about anything, including being assaulted with pillows and globs of hospital food.

Instead, he got a rather touching surprise. "The Most Creative, Screwed Up, Warped Award," Snot explained, "grants you the right to wear the Toilet Turban," he placed a clean bedpan, upside down, on Anakin's head. In bright red letters, the bottom of the pan had the title of the award scribbled on it. "And," Snot grinned, "it immediately moves you to the front of the waiting line."

"Waiting line?"

"Yep. We inform Doc Brie that you're the next on the list to go into surgery for your scars. She moves you up on the list for the next available spot, and you go in, in a couple of days, and come out looking like old Aric here." He punched his friend for good measure and Aric made to smack him back but Snot danced away. "Try that again and I'll ruin that pretty-boy face of yours!"

"You just give it a try, snot-face."

"Wait, what?" Anakin was astonished. "You can't be serious. I'm not scheduled for a number of days now, a week or two even. I can't go next."

"You won the award, you go." Tash insisted.

"But. . . but there have been others, waiting longer than I have!"

"And we'll keep on waiting." Komkal interrupted. "It's a rule of the Warped Wards. The guy, or girl," he winked at Lasha who threw her pillow at him before returning to her magazine, "with the most impressive story, or the most serious injuries, goes first. Well, the rest of us are fine, and can stick around for a few extra days. And there's no one who can beat surviving lava. So, you're up, Skywalker."

"Hold on," Aric's grin faded and he turned to stare at Anakin, who felt rather self-conscious again, with the bedpan on his head. "You're Anakin Skywalker?! Man, I have _got _to hear this story!"

Anakin groaned good-naturedly, but complied.

* * *

There was actually more to this post, where Padme comes to see him and some other stuff happens. But this post is already fifteen pages long, so best I continue next time.

Thanks once again to TJM for the Warped Ward! I had lots of fun writing it! :D

Caslia


	35. Blood of the Body: Chapter 7

Hey, everyone. Sorry for the delay, as usual. ;) Kinda in an unrequited love mood, so look out, this post is gonna be just a bit of a up/downer towards the end. Just a heads up.

* * *

Chapter Six:

_Blood of the Body_

Two years and nine months after _Rebirth of the Light. . ._

* * *

It seemed even the professional and rational Doctor Brie couldn't stand up to the anarchical jocularity of the Warped Wards and its crazy award. Upon hearing that the ward had agreed to push Anakin to the front of the waiting line for surgery, Shira had been left with little choice but to give into the begging, puppy-dog looks of Tash and the others.

As grateful as he was, at the same time Anakin was a little disappointed. The atmosphere of the ward had really had a positive effect on him. Everyday he saw a little more of his older self coming out, the face in the mirror looking a little less horrific. He was quietly discovering the maturity he had earned through his trials with the Darkness and the humility he had gained through his redemption didn't clash with his personality. And unlike when he was a teenager growing up among Jedi, his feelings were no longer suppressed but allowed to be felt for all their worth.

Not only could he feel again with his hands, with his skin, but Anakin felt as though for the first time since he was a child, he was feeling the true depths of his emotions without reservations.

It hit him the hardest the first time Padme came to visit him, only a few hours after his indoctrination into the Warped Wards.

He'd fallen asleep, a little tired after all the excitement and still recovering from his earlier surgery and seizure. The other patients left him alone and let him drift in and out, their constant banter in the background reassuring.

"Anakin."

His eyes fluttered open and stared up into hers. Padme smiled, and reached to gently brush his cheek with her fingertips. He could feel her weight beside him on the bed, could feel her hair brushing his arm as it fell, unbraided, over her shoulder.

And she stared at him with such love, Anakin thought his heart might give out on him.

Force, she was beautiful. Anakin ached, just looking at her, just knowing she was here beside him. In all her beauty, all her compassion and incredible forgiveness. How he wished he could be as good as she was. How could someone so perfect ever have been created? Padme, his Padme, outshined everything, even the white, golden Light of the Force.

His vision went blurry and he reached up to wipe the tears away, but she caught his hand in hers and kissed his palm, brushed her cheek against it and sighed. Leaning down, she kissed away each of his tears, smiling all the while and not saying a word. Anakin just watched her, not caring that they weren't alone. Not caring if the whole galaxy were suddenly there watching them.

For how long had he been forced to keep his love for her a secret? For how long had he suppressed his feelings for her as to protect them both, from the galaxy, from the Emperor. And then, because he had had no choice, because it was better for her.

Now, with nothing to hold him back, no Jedi Code, no mask, no Darkness, Anakin thought he might explode with all the light inside him. Could she see it shining in his eyes? Could his angel know the depth of his love for her, how it bound him to her, how she gave his life, breathe, purpose for living? Could she possibly know he would have died inside, having to live without her? He nearly choked on the rising emotions, on the love that was a gentle balm to his soul. Trying to get the words past the sudden lump in his throat, Anakin rasped her name, struggling to find a way to explain.

But Padme, his beautiful Padme, just smiled and leaned down to kiss him, share life with him. They held each other close, just enjoying being close to each other after so long.

Breathing in her scent, Anakin drifted in peace, his blue eyes locked with her brown ones.

Sighing deeply, Padme looked upon her husband in glorious contentment. There were no thoughts, no words. She simply rode a blissful wave of warm emotions and tried to hold on, tried not to drown in their beauty and his shimmering eyes. His arms were strong around her shoulders, just the tips of their noses touching as they lay on the bed, staring into one another. A part of her was thinking of how long it had been since she was this happy, how long since there had been nothing in her thoughts but Anakin and how much she loved him, how he stole her very breath away. But the rest of her was centered on just watching him.

If she blinked, he might vanish. She could see his soul in his eyes and for a moment, it was as though Padme could touch the Force. They were one, for just that instant, then she was back on the bed.

There were a thousand things she should be thinking about, about the future and the twins and maybe, one day, more children. About maybe loosing her husband in the battle against the Empire, about his destiny as the Chosen One. But all of that fell away, and each time she sought for balance, sought for some rational thought in her mind, all she ever came back to was how much she loved him. How much, despite his being there day after day these past three years, how terribly she had missed him.

Her Ani.

If there had been anything inside her to make tears with, she might have wept with joy. But there was nothing inside her but love, and it glowed so brightly, she thought its fire might consume her and burn her dry.

For the longest time, the two simply lay and stared into one another, content for the moment just to simply be.

* * *

Standing in the door of the wards, Obi-wan watched his two best friends and smiled. Padme laid down beside her husband and the two wrapped their arms around each other and didn't move. Despite the shields, he could feel their love, if so simple a word could explain the way the two felt about one another. It was like a wave, this feeling. It broke against Anakin's Force presence, then in a lolling fashion, returned and broke against Padme's.

It bound them together. For them, there was nothing outside the other's soul, and the Light sparked by their love.

Taking a deep, ragged breath, Obi-wan turned away and retreated from the ward. He headed back for his quarters, hoping Jan was taking care of the twins and he might have some time alone.

Force knew he needed it.

Keeping a tight clamp on his feelings, Obi-wan's face was blank as he passed people in the hallways. He was still hearing the music in the Force, the gentle melody Anakin and Padme made. It was beautiful beyond words.

And heartbreakingly painful.

Their love was so strong, so good. It had outlasted everything somehow. It made them better than they were alone, brought them together in a way nothing else could. Even the Force had never before touched someone like that sort of love could.

And as much as Obi-wan loved them both, as much as he wanted to see Anakin so content, he couldn't help but taste bitterness on the back of his tongue.

Why can love hurt? It shouldn't have to be that way. And why should another's joy cause another pain? He wanted so desperately to know nothing but the bliss they felt, to be content that Anakin at last felt whole. Their love brought tears to Obi-wan's eyes, though he fought them till he reached the secluded haven of his quarters. Yet the tears still held that hint of bitterness to them and as much as he tried not to be envious, tried to squash the jealousy, the self pity, he felt it rise up inside him.

Obi-wan spat, attempting to clear the awful taste from his mouth, the unworthy feelings from his heart.

The two people he cared most about in the entire galaxy were at least reunited. They were everything that mattered; they were Obi-wan's pride and joy. His hope.

But the darkness that had seeped into his heart had festered, if only a little. Staring out the view port at the stars, alone in the quiet darkness of his room, he clung to the window edge till his knuckles whitened and his fingers cramped.

It wasn't fair.

He loved her. With all his heart, Obi-wan loved Sabé. He had allowed himself to feel things for her he never should have, let her into his heart, gave her a piece of his soul.

There was nothing more he wanted then to be with her. Just to be in her presence, to talk with her, laugh with her. To just share the everyday, mundane happenings in their lives. He wanted to make her smile, to not be afraid to letting that part of himself be seen.

Obi-wan wanted the right to love her.

But he couldn't. Every time he tried, something went wrong. At first, she had been open, encouraging, but he had run away, escaped her. It hurt to know he had used Anakin as an excuse, had used his friend's Jedi training to hide for her and his feelings. And yes, he had made an effort and she had turned him down, but he could understand why. Her duty was most important to her, just as Obi-wan's was to him. But then she had come back.

They had been so close.

He could love her. Given the chance, he knew he could! Would show her how much he had give, how much he needed her, if only. . .

Sabé had known how important Obi-wan's duty was to him, how seriously he took his responsibilities. So she had left. Fearing she might complicate his life, might jeopardize everything he was struggling to accomplish by distracting him, she had left.

Love wasn't beautiful. It was cold and bitter when unrequited. It was putting yourself out there and being turned down, of _knowing_ things could work if only given the chance, then making a mistake, and having it all ruined. Love was finding the perfect person, when you had never been looking in the first place, being given a gift, and having it snatched away.

How many people can you love, and then bear to loose, before something inside you dies?

And yet, how beautiful it could be. How incredibly beyond simple words. The way Anakin and Padme looked at each other. Was it so wrong to want something like that?

No. How could it be wrong to love?

How could something so beautiful be wrong? Even when it caused pain, even when it was never returned, even when shunned or killed or turned bitter, it was still love. Something so rare, so precious, was beautiful simply because it existed, simply because he could find it within himself to feel that way about someone.

Surely, had he been able to say these things to Sabé, had Obi-wan told her the depth of what he felt, she would have stayed. Everything else, nothing. Didn't matter. Anakin and Padme's love had survived every kind of betrayal, every attempt made to render it cold and worthless.

And yet, here they were.

Given a second chance, Obi-wan decided, he would not falter. Eventually, Sabé would return from this mission. And when she did, he would wrap his arms around her, look into her eyes and never, _never_ let her go. He would share his soul with her, if that was what it took.

Hope. He just had to have hope. As bittersweet as it seemed, Obi-wan would wait for her. Surely love would outlast regret and fears, and war. Surely.

* * *

Happier stuff next time. Luke and Leia will get to see their daddy's face for the first time! :D

Caslia


	36. Blood of the Body: Chapter 8

Hey, hope everyone is enjoying their turkey! Yeah for long posts and even longer holiday breaks! :D

This is a really long post, sixteen pages long! I want long replies in response! :p Come on, people, I know you can do it! ;)

* * *

Chapter Six:

_Blood of the Body_

Two years and nine months after _Rebirth of the Light. . ._

* * *

They waited another week for Anakin to recuperate from his other operations before taking him in for facial reconstruction. But, with typical Skywalker stubbornness, the Jedi refused to stay in bed any longer than he absolutely had to. He might have been up the day after his surgery if Tash and the others hadn't threatened to sit on him, something Anakin was sure his new lungs weren't yet capable of handling.

He gave it another two days, then, when he was sure his new friends' backs were turned, rolled out of bed and staggered to his feet alone. Pride always had been one of his weaknesses and having to be helped to the bathroom the last two weeks had been both damaging and humbling.

This time wasn't much better, of course. He'd gotten half way across the ward without any problems when Lasha looked up in surprise from the fashion mag she was always reading and took only a second to assess the situation before scolding him. Others look up then and started to order him back to bed.

"I'm fine!" Anakin snapped, tired of all the babying. He was seriously starting to regret ever being freed of the suit; at least then he'd been strong enough to do things on his own and people had showed him some respect.

"Come on, Skywalker," the patient nearest him gave him a pleading look. "Doc Brie is going to kill us if she finds out we let you up."

"I'm not an invalid."

"No, you're a stubborn, _stubborn _man, in need of rest. Get back to bed."

Skywalker's eyes narrowed.

"I'm very tempted to choke you right now."

"Leave off him, Anakin," Lasha retorted, not looking up as she flipped through her magazine. "We all know you hate it when we tell you what to do. But it's for your own good and more importantly, you _know_ what you should and should not be doing. So please, without further argument, get back in bed."

Sighing in frustration, Anakin shrugged his shoulders and the motion nearly destroyed his sensitive sense of balance. Grabbing the headboard of the nearest bed, he glared at Lasha. She refused to look 

up, clearly not threatened. "I need to use the fresher and for once, I'd like to be allowed the dignity to go on my own. For once! Do. . . you. . ._mind_?"

"Fine," she replied, still ignoring meeting his eyes. "Have it your way."

Ten minutes later, Snot and Tash had to go in and get him. Exhausted after standing for so long on his own and arguing with his ward mates, Anakin had simply sat down when he was done and had not been able to get up.

They helped him back to his bed, and Anakin was glad when Lasha didn't say a thing, just kept reading her magazine. He doubted he could have looked her in the eyes.

But, Force, he hated being one of the few ward members who was actually bedridden. He wanted to be up, be around! He was almost whole! He couldn't sit around any more! He had stuff to do, needed to finish his training, to fulfill his destiny! Time was surely running out.

_Patience_, his inner voices chided him.

But by the end of the week, when Shira came to inform him they were ready to take him in if he was feeling strong enough, Anakin was so ready to be out of that bed he was willing to put the mask back on. The medic called his wife and Kenobi to the ward for a final meeting in which she explained what they were going to do and how they hoped the results would look.

Holding their breath, Obi-wan and Padme, with a final kiss that sizzled Anakin's blood, took their positions in the waiting room.

"This isn't going to be some instant miracle," Brie warned as the medics around them prepared for the surgery and Anakin waited for the drug-induced sleep to overtake him. "It may not work the first time, there can be complications. And even if there aren't, you'll still spend a day or two in and out of the bacta tank."

"I know," Anakin grinned, unable to help it. "Go ahead, doc. I'm ready."

She smiled at him adoringly as he drifted off.

"You really are a piece of work, aren't you?". . .

* * *

After that, there were blue-green dreams as he hung in the bacta tank, only half conscious.

Anakin could hear familiar voices, just out of reach so that the words were indistinct. But he knew it was Padme and Obi-wan, Brie and once in a while one of the mobile members of the Warped Ward. When he wasn't sleeping, in a healing trance or listening for voices in his watery realm, Anakin was reaching out with the Force, searching.

Every once in a while, his conscious brushed against Master Yoda's. It was reassuring to know the old Jedi Master was still there, still searching the galaxy for Jedi who had escaped the Purges and might be willing to trust the redeemed Sith Lord. Sometimes he wasn't alone, sometimes Yoda allowed Anakin to feel the others with him. Jedi, knights and apprentices and the occasional master, all alive and in hiding.

There weren't many of them, but it was still good to know.

He had spent a good amount of time in the early years of his redemption struggling with how he felt about the Jedi. The old Order had still been 'corrupt', so to speak. They had forgotten how to fight, how to properly dispense justice. More or less, they had become lackeys of the Republic officials, and had fallen out of favor with the people. The Jedi, before any others, should have seen the corruption within the Republic and done something about it; instead they had, if not nurtured it, turned a blind eye.

At the same time, the Order had been his second home. The Jedi had been friends, comrades in arms. They had given him Master Qui-gon and his best friend and mentor, Obi-wan. And though he had seen them as weak, in the end it was the Jedi who had protected his children and were the only hope for the galaxy against Palpatine's tyranny.

Eventually, he had come to regret the Purge that had cleansed the galaxy of the Jedi, for the individual lives and talents lost if not for the destruction of the Order.

His guilt where the Jedi were concerned was limited, however, to treason, and not murder. He had given Palpatine the information the Emperor needed to attack the quarters of the Jedi Temple were the Masters and Knights resided (he had never meant for the apprentices and children to be harmed, in fact, he had been led to believe they were serve as Dark Jedi minions once they received new training) and told the Sith about tactics and information given only to Jedi Knights. But he had not actually taken part in the attack, having been in surgery after his confrontation with his former master.

Years later, he realized the appalling deaths of the young apprentices and the children should have been enough to make him realize his mistake. But he hadn't shed a tear nor given them a second thought.

By some gift of the Force, a number of the apprentices had survived, it seemed, and were well on their way to becoming knights under the tutelage of Jedi Masters in hiding.

As reassuring as that was, there was something that disturbed Anakin. There was an emptiness in the Force at the same time, something he didn't quite understand. Where there should have been the Emperor's familiar but unwanted presence, there was nothing.

It shook Anakin to the core, because it meant not only did he no longer have that window into whether or not Palpatine could sense him and whether or not he knew where he was, it meant the Sith master had finally succeeded in hiding his presence in the Force. He had vanished all together. He could be anywhere, closing in on the Jedi and Yoda, or approaching the rebel base, and no one, not even his former apprentice would know. It was a terrifying thought, but all Skywalker could do was hope he was wrong.

A week, in and out of the tank, with bandages covering his scars when he lay in bed sleeping, Anakin fought his natural restlessness with admirable determination.

The only time he wasn't itching to get up and do something was when Padme came during meal times. She would sit by his bed and feed him soups and soft foods. Anyone else and he would have insisted he was fully capable of doing it himself, but he liked having an excuse to spend time with his wife. And Padme enjoyed doing it anyway. She would sit and tell him of everything the twins had been up to in the last three weeks in which he hadn't seen them.

Luke still spoke rarely, but when he did, Padme said he spoke intelligently and with seriousness, as though he was years older. His sister didn't at all seem confused by her brother's maturity, but took it in stride and agreed with Luke on most issues. They had been spending most of their time playing with the other children that lived here at Home One and in the nearby villages, under the close watch of Jan. Sollik had time on her hands now that she had been stationed at the base, and had vehemently agreed to play nanny to the Skywalker twins.

Anakin had tried to raise his eyebrows at this, then stated his surprise when his bandaged wouldn't allow it. "Jan's pilots are stationed here? I thought they would have been guarding the fleet."

"Actually, the majority of the squadrons are based at the moment, either here or on the _Medical Frigate_. I'll admit, we're getting a little concerned. Something is going on. There's been no attack on transports, no raids by the Imperials. In fact, the Imperial fleet hasn't engaged us once in the last few weeks. They're completely ignoring us."

"And, you're worried they're up to something." Anakin sipped from the glass his wife offered. "You're right, that doesn't sound like the Imperials. They're usual techniques are just plain aggression."

"Think they're trying to lure us into a sense of false security?"

"If they are, it means they've finally got someone with brains on the war council."

Chuckling, Padme set the empty food tray aside and took her husband's hand in hers, squeezing it gently. "Not the brightest of the bunch, are they?"

"Who did you think came up with the troopers' helmets?" He looked into her beautiful brown eyes and couldn't bring himself to care much at the moment. "Don't worry, honey, everything will be okay."

"I know, Ani. I know."

* * *

Slowly, just a little at a time, Skywalker got better. Walking on his own more and more often, Obi-wan was glad to see his former apprentice up and feeling energetic, if a bit cranky from having to stay in bed when he'd rather be up.

When visiting his friend while Anakin hung in the bacta tank, the Jedi Master was glad to see the scars fading more and more. His facial reconstruction had realigned his jaw, and taken away the worst of his scars. The rest, like his ear and other scars, just needed time to heal in the bacta, something that had been impossible right after their duel due to the condition of his lungs.

The scars on his back, which had not removed, paled as days went by and were no longer an angry red. Shira had explained they would require a second operation, this time plastic surgery, but would have to wait, or he would be lying on his stomach at the same time he waited for his face to heal. Almost immediately, Anakin had turned the idea down and told her he wanted to keep the scars on his back.

"Why?" Obi-wan asked him one day as he was helping him dry off from a bacta dip.

"Why what?" Wrapping the towel around his waist, Anakin walked to his waiting clothes, only needing Obi-wan for balance once. He had been determined to make it on his own but only sighed in mild frustration when Kenobi had to come to his rescue.

"Why did you decide to keep the spine scars? I would think they would be bothersome, if not painful."

"Mmm. . . not really. The only pain they give me is the kind memories cause. And that was why I decided to keep them."

"What do you mean?"

Anakin waited till he pulled his shirt over his head, hair damp with bacta and looking like a kid again. Then he motioned for Kenobi to help him with his balance as he pulled his pants on, so as not to tip over. "I don't think I'll ever get tired of feeling cotton against my skin. Hand me that belt over there."

"Am I going to have to help you put it on?"

"Shut up."

He threw his wet towel at his friend after he caught the belt tossed his way, and clipped his lightsaber to it. Even though he was still in the ward, he had asked Obi-wan to bring it to him, having missed its weight hanging from his hip.

"The scars on my back remind me of my mistakes, in a way. Before, I had the mask, the suit. And, Force! Did I want to be free of them! But at the same time, they were a silent and cursed reminder of all that I had done wrong, everything I had given up and destroyed, both in my life and in others. Every time I was tempted to anger, I remembered that _that_ was where anger, and the Darkside, had gotten me. Now, I don't have that. But just because I'm blessedly free of the suit doesn't mean I feel any freer of my past."

"And the scars? Surely there's a less painful way you could have reminded yourself of the past, Anakin. None of us want you to suffer just to remember to hold your temper."

"I know, but at the same time, it's a reminder of Palpatine. Of his treason. You don't understand, Obi-wan." He smiled sadly at his friend, his skin glowing blue-green in the light cast by the tank. The entire room was bathed in the calming colors, light dancing across the walls like waves. It was quiet here, and Anakin always felt his restlessness drained away in this room, felt more like talking than doing. "That first year I was redeemed, Force, it feels like an entire lifetime ago! Back then, in many ways I hadn't turned against the Emperor. Oh, I wasn't going to go back to him," he waved a reassuring hand at Obi-wan's suddenly concerned expression, "but neither did I see him for the monster I came to realize he was."

"But things changed, _you_ changed me, you and Padme and the twins. And slowly, things began to fall into place and I started to see how things really were. Eventually, I broke all trust, all loyalty to Palpatine. But it wasn't until I learned about what he had done to me, about how he had intentionally forced me to live that life, that I guess I saw the true depths of his. . . his inhumanity. I guess, somehow, I always thought there was some kind of hope. That maybe, he was like me. He was just using his powers for the wrong reasons, that he just needed guidance."

"But not any more."

Anakin nodded, all humor dead in his eyes. "Not any more."

"Still," Obi-wan shook his head and offered his friend an arm he knew would be ignored. "I don't think you need to remind yourself of his treachery to such extremes. Wouldn't a string around your finger or something do?"

Anakin chuckled, then winced as the medics began to wrap new bandages around some of the worst of his scars that had yet to heal. He hadn't gotten the guts yet to look in the mirror, but others reassured him he was looking better. There was even peach fuzz on his head that would eventually become hair. All he needed was some sunshine to turn his pallor to a youthful tan.

"How much longer?" he asked Shira when he saw her again as she came to check charts in the Ward.

"Getting impatient, Jedi Skywalker?" she teased.

"You know me. Ready and willing for adventure, excitement and volcanic dangers."

"I would request you stay away from any volcanoes and any other fiery natural disasters in the near future, Anakin. I would hate to have to patch you up all over again. We were lucky enough as it was."

He just winked before asking, "Will it be any longer? The twins third birthday is coming up in a month. And I really, really want to be there for it. At home, in our house. With my wife and children. Please, Doctor Brie. Can you give me that?"

She nodded understandingly. "I'll see what I can do."

After that, almost every day he went in for a bacta dip. Other ward members moved their appointments to other times, juggling the schedules and almost driving the medics mad, so that Anakin had an hour in the tank two or three times a day. Finally, after only a few days of this constant treatment, Shira told him he wouldn't be dripped in the tank any more, that it was now purely up to his natural systems to heal the last of the surgery. He was more or less healed from his earlier surgeries as well, and mobile with fewer and fewer mishaps.

She called him into her office a last time, to remove the bandages and give him some privacy for his first look in the mirror.

After she had removed the gauze and left, Anakin hesitantly rose from his seat and moved to look in the mirror hanging on the wall.

In silence, he stared at the face that, wide-eyed and mouth agape, stared back.

For years, the face that had stared at him he had associated with the mask and the suit-encased life he had lived. It had been pale and ugly, disfigured and hideous to look at, all the more for the crimes hidden beneath the skin. And the eyes that had gazed at him with such self-loathing had been red-rimmed and sad, like the soul within was barely clinging to life.

But now, oh, now they _blazed_!

Now there was life and humor and _joy_ there! Now there was hope. And the skin around those eyes was young and darker than before and smooth where before there had been burned tissue. The nose was straight and the chin proud. The chapped, twisted lips had healed; the ear that had once been nothing more than a malformed stump on the side of his head perfectly matched the one on the left side of his head. Light blond stubble covered his head and around his jaw.

Stubble. The very beginning of a beard, like Obi-wan's.

Reaching up with both hands, the flesh and blood hand and the new mechanical one they had covered in prosthetic skin, Anakin ran his palms over face and his skull, along his jaw. Gently at first, cautious, and then with more vigor, he rubbed his eyes in disbelief, awestruck.

It was a face both familiar and new, a face of an Anakin Skywalker he hadn't seen in nearly four years.

His face.

Freedom. Pure, sweet freedom and complete rebirth, at long, long last.

Unable to help himself, Anakin chuckled, then laughed, then let the mirth bubbling out of his lips loose and howled for joy. Blessed Force, he was free at last! No more mask, or suit, or armor or fearful 

looks for the creature Vader who resembled everything the Empire stood for! Free to be himself, to be a Jedi, to choose his own path.

He was free to _live_, to be human!

The laughter turned to tears, and for the longest time, he simply stared into the mirror and rejoiced at the sight of tears running down pale, unscarred cheeks.

* * *

He wanted Padme and Obi-wan to be the first to see, wanted his family to be the first ones to see his face complete and whole. Oh, they had seen him enough times as he had been taken in and out of the bacta tank. But this was different.

It was over. All the weeks of surgery, the careful treatment. All this, finally completed after years inside the suit. But, understandably, it couldn't be. It was enough, knowing he had the rest of his life to live like this.

Never, ever again would he take for granted the wonders of simple human contact, with other beings, with the world around him. With those he loved.

Shira had returned to the room a half hour later and waited patiently for him to respond to her quiet presence. She was unprepared for the heart-felt hug he gave, or the whispered words of gratitude that nearly broke her heart. Though many had come and gone before Skywalker that had been almost as much in need of her talents, none had touched her as much, nor been as desperate as Anakin. Or as deserving.

He truly was, she decided, something very, very special.

"This way," gently, she led him to a fresher where he could shave and wash up. She had had clothes prepared for him, under General Kenobi's instructions for size and preferred cut. They weren't Jedi robes, but they were similar to the outfits he had worn as an apprentice. However, rather than the black he had worn for so long, both as Jedi and Sith, Obi-wan had chosen a dark brown for his charge, something that was attractive, but not suggestive.

He might yet wear black again, but Anakin doubted it would ever again be for Jedi robes, and not for a very long time.

Knee-high boots, matching belt and his lightsaber completed the image. Looking in the mirror after dressing, Anakin was amazed at the older version of the Padawan learner he saw. The boy had grown up, faced trials, turned bitter, been healed, grown a heart, and finally matured into a man. Skywalker couldn't help but grin, hoping that when Obi-wan saw him, his older brother and mentor would be truly proud of Anakin.

He received an approving nod from Brie, then went to thank his ward mates for everything they done for him. Taking a deep breath, he palmed the door and stepped within.

No one noticed him at first, then Silence glanced his way and opened his mouth in hushed howl. He immediately grabbed a pillow and threw it at Rook who looked to the door and gave a shout, catching everyone's attention.

"Force, Skywalker! Is that you?!"

Snot stopped in mid-dance in the middle of the room, bedpan upside down on his head like a hat, and stared. Tash came to stand beside him while others craned their necks around the pair to see Anakin 

standing in the doorway. "Well, I'll be." Snot took the bedpan off his head and held it to his heart, in salute to the young Jedi. He opened his mouth to say more, but nothing came out.

Lasha, still bedridden, glanced up and, eyebrow cocked, gave him the once over. "Hmmm. . . well, the outfit is a definite improvement over med robes. I'll say your wife should be one pleased woman."

"Lasha!" Tash admonished her. She only blew him a kiss.

"Then. . . " Anakin spread his arms, then let them fall back to his sides, not sure what to do or say. "You approve?"

"Force, if Brie can do _that_" Rook waved his stump of an arm in Anakin's direction, "What do the rest of us have to worry about? These meds can work miracles!"

Ignoring the still staring Snot, Tash approached Anakin and put his hands on his shoulders, looking him eye to eye, so to speak. Anakin tried not to flinch, wondering what his friend was thinking, wondering what was going through the rebel's mind.

In a voice laden with unusual seriousness, Tash asked, "So, what are you going to do now, Skywalker? What destiny have you chosen for yourself? You going to go out there and save us all? Gonna be the Jedi everyone wants you to be? The hero of the rebellion?"

It wasn't what he was expecting and Anakin blinked, taken aback.

"No," he said at last, testing each word. "No, I'm going to go out there hoping to do what I can to help the people in need, to fight for those who can't fight for themselves and give everyone, _everyone_, Imperials and rebels and republicans alike a new future. A second chance."

"Like us. Like this." Tash pointed to the patch covering his healing eye, to Anakin's chest where the new lungs filled and his heart swelled.

"Yeah. Just like us."

"Good." The pilot embraced Anakin, pulling him close for a brief moment before pushing him away again and shaking him by the shoulders. "Then you get out there and do it. And don't let anyone tell you that you aren't good enough, or have to do it their way. You survived a volcano; you can survive anything people are going to throw at you. We know you can."

Feeling himself getting emotional, Anakin nodded to show he understood, because by then he wasn't sure he could trust himself to speak. He had gone as mute as Silence. The other ward members called out encouragement as Skywalker turned to leave.

"I'll be back. . . for a visit." He said at the door, looking at Tash and smiling Snot and Lasha and the others.

"We know." Tash winked, his good-humor returned. "We expect it."

* * *

When her comm. beeped and an unfamiliar voice asked her where she and the twins were, Jan Solik's first thought was concern.

"Who is this?"

"I. . . It's a surprise. . . "

A surprise?! Rebel training and motherly instinct kicked in. After all, very few people knew she was using her time off to watch the Skywalker children. She wasn't about to put it past the Empire, or even a malcontent rebel to attempt to kidnap, or even kill the children as to hurt their father and mother. She paused, uncertain what to say or do, comm. held before suddenly trembling lips.

No one was going to hurt little Luke and Leia. Not if she could help it.

Fighter instinct kicked in and her mind started working again. If this truly was a threat to the twins, better to deal with it now, face it rather than continuously watch their backs. What with Anakin still in the med center and Obi-wan seeming to drift in and out of reality lately, they couldn't afford to have someone watching and planning from the shadows.

In a voice she hoped sounded as steady as when she was giving orders in battle, though she felt no where near as calm or confident, Jan informed the being on the other end of the comm. that she and the children were playing outside, on the south side of the children's quarters, which were attached to the original underground cave that was Home One. When they had hung up, she ran with the twins to the house in which Padme was preparing lunch. Saying only, someone is coming, Jan could see the look on her face was enough to warn her friend. Padme immediately contacted Obi-wan.

Oh, Force, oh Force! Padme couldn't help but think of the assassination attempts against her all through the years as queen and senator, couldn't help remember Boba Fett attacking them in the hanger of the _Frigate_. But those attacks had been against her and Anakin, not her children. And they had been seasoned warriors, a Jedi and a fighter who could defend themselves, not a little boy and girl!

All her motherly instincts told her to hide the children with Jan and march out there with Obi-wan to confront who ever it was threatening her babies. But at the same time she knew she couldn't caution Anakin about being reckless and then leave their twins alone.

Kissing her son and daughter, holding them close in her arms, she prayed Obi-wan would get there before the newcomer.

In almost no time at all, robes flying, he arrived, face creased in worry and weapon in hand.

"And they didn't say who they were?" Obi-wan asked, looking all around as Padme took them inside one of the villager's homes. Nether Luke nor Leia seemed disturbed by the threat but, the Jedi reminded himself, for all their insight and Force talents, they were still very innocent to the ways of the galaxy. And so very young. Force, they had yet to see their third birthday!

He could still well remember, looking back, his little charges as nothing more than tiny babes wrapped in blankets. They had been so incredibly fragile! His clumsy Jedi hands and loud adult voice had to be trained not to hurt them, rather, to protect them. And as much trouble as they were, Leia puking down the back of his robes, Luke sneezing baby powder all over him, he loved them dearly, so much he thought he might break inside at just the thought of something terrible happening to them.

And Leia's first words. His name, not mommy or daddy or anything else. Obi.

They were almost as much his children as they were Anakin and Padme's. He had been there for their birth, had cared for them, raised them, protected them. And come to love them, despite the Jedi rule of no emotional attachments.

But he was done with that rule, forever. He had broken it with Anakin, and then Skywalker's wife, and the twins. And finally, with Sabé. He, too, was free now.

He was reaching out to the twins, reassuring them by sending his love and request to keep quiet and out of sight when something else in the Force caught his attention.

There was a lone figure standing in the doorway leading out of the base into the village. Standing tall in the shadows, they hesitated and Obi-wan realized that they weren't staring at him and Solik, or at the house where the twins were, or even at the village. But rather, but at the sky, and all around at the grassy hills in the distance.

Kenobi didn't need the Force to tell him who it was.

Anakin.

Hesitantly, arm raised over his eyes to protect them from the bright rays of the sun, his friend stepped forward into the sunlight, bathing in their light for the first time in many years.

The wind pulled at Skywalker's outfit and he turned in their direction, opening his arms and hands wide to feel the wind against his skin. Obi-wan sucked in a pained breath at the sight of the young man before him. In the sunlight, even from this distance, he could see the Jedi and the sight broke something inside of him.

Anakin stood straight, on his own, with no bandages and no mask and drank in all the world around him.

He could feel, touch, taste, smell. He could see everything with his own eyes and feel the sting of the wind and the sun on them, till he had to force them shut. And then he could see the spots, dancing behind his eyes. And for the first time, he knew this planet, knew his children's homeworld. The air was brisk and cool, the sun shining down was warm and there was the smell of good earth, rich soil and something else. Maybe the way the trees smelled or the grass. The breeze on his palm was almost too much, too many feelings to have to take in all at once.

Tentatively, he opened himself up to the Force. It connected him to all the life around him, to the earth beneath his boots and the domed sky high above and all the life from the hustling of the rebel base and village to the tiny ants crawling in the grass. The Force and life surrounded him, welcomed him, became a part of him as it hadn't in so long, since before the dark times. But Anakin cast all thought of that away, wanting only the revel in this moment.

The Light was like a melody, gentle and caressing, and his heart sang with it, as the world around him breathed life.

A tender touch of a hand on his shoulder brought Anakin back to himself, back to his body. Around him, Thantinia still lived and breathed, as did the Force, but he was a part of it as a single individual now. Turning, he found Obi-wan, eyes red-rimmed and smiling.

"Ani."

The older Jedi's hands came up to his friend's face and gently, with just his thumbs, wiped away the tears that traced silver down Anakin's cheeks. Skywalker put his hands over his friends and for a moment, the two just stared at one another. Then they pulled one another close and hung on tightly, Obi-wan reveling in their closeness, Anakin rejoicing in the feel of his master's cloak in his clenched hands, his smell, his warmth.

He would have held on longer, maybe simply melted in that embraced, but the most beautiful voice reached his ears and Anakin pulled away, turned to stare.

Running toward him, blond hair flying as he raced to his father, a little boy with eyes on fire called out.

"Dad!"

Vision blurred, Anakin kneeled down and embraced his son, clinging to the small body wrapped within his arms. The first time. The first time he had touched his boy with his own hands, could run his fingertips over his face, over their similar features. Run his hands through his boy's hair, dishelming it, and _feel_ it as he did it.

Clenching his eyes tight, Anakin breathed in the smell of his son, and held him close.

"Luke. . . "

It didn't matter he hadn't been there for his son's first words. It didn't matter. Luke had called him by name, called to his father and knew him, without the mask. Oh, blessed Force, how he loved his son.

Luke looked up at his father then, love and understanding shining in his bright eyes and Anakin knew, he didn't need to explain. Not to his boy. Somehow, Luke understood what his father was feeling.

At the sound of running feet, Anakin looked up, thinking to see his daughter also running towards him.

Instead, it was an angel.

Long brown tresses flying behind her like a cloud, dress wrapped around her legs, Padme sprinted across the ground, hope and fear and love and a thousand bittersweet emotions in her eyes. Anakin felt his breath catch, felt his heart stop then blaze to life again. He stood just in time, caught her against him as she came soaring into his arms. She didn't even look at his face, didn't need to. Instead, she wrapped her arms around his neck and simply held on. Didn't cry, didn't say a word. Just held on, burying her face in his neck and breathing him in.

Eyes shut tight, Anakin held his angel.

For what seemed to them to be an eternity, there was nothing but the two of them. Then Padme at last pulled away and stared up at her husband, stared up at the face she had seen only glimpses of, at the eyes for so long hidden behind the black mask. Sad, desperate loving eyes of a boy that had stared back at her from the Darkness. Passionately from under a Jedi hood. Innocently, with such admiration, from a little boy dressed in slave's clothes.

"Ani. My Ani. . . "

"Angel."

He leaned down and kissed her, tasted the soft rose petal of her lips, the rich honey of her kiss, and the fire in her soul. Drowning, burning, dying as she held him in her arms. And when she pulled away, eyes swimming, Anakin thought his body might go numb, might shut down from the overload of sensations he was feeling.

The spell was broken when a little hand tugged at his pants leg and Anakin looked down to his son. Luke pointed back toward the village and his father turned.

One hand holding her uncle's, looking cautiously from Luke to her mother, to Anakin, Leia walked silently from the cottage to where they stood. As they got closer, her eyes became riveted to Anakin's. Those brown eyes, her mother's in a smaller face, searched his face, looking for something, he knew 

not what. Maybe a hint of the man she knew as her father. Bending down again, Anakin opened his arms to his daughter, all smiles, and waited.

"Leia."

But she clung to Obi-wan, her protector and favorite since she was a mere babe, hiding behind his robes as she considered this newcomer. She knew it was her father. Luke's presence in her mind reassured her that it was, and she could see parts of her brother, and herself, in the face of the man before her. But where was the familiar and comforting mask? Where was the armor, strong and cool when she had laid her cheek against it?

Where, she wanted to know, had her father gone?

"It's okay, Leia," Anakin whispered, suddenly afraid. Afraid his daughter might reject him, might not know him for who he was. Couldn't she see? Didn't she feel his love for her, spilling out his heart and nearly killing him? What would he do, if the child whose birth had brought him back, had saved him, turned him away? "It's me, sweetheart. It's me, princess."

At the sound of her nickname, Leia blinked, then moved closer. Slowly, her hand never leaving the Jedi's robes, she reached out with her other hand and ran it along her father's cheeks.

"Daddy?"

_She did not need eyes to see, she told him. She could feel, even without the Force, that he was happy and loved her._

Yes! Oh, yes, Leia! He wanted to cry, it's me, it's me Anakin. It's Daddy. But he didn't want to scare her, wanted her to see _him_ as her father, who he was inside, not the mask. Not this face. The man inside, who loved her, would die for her.

And then her arms were around his neck, holding on and whispering sweet, childish words of love and devotion. He tried to listen but his heart shouting for joy drowned all the words out and all he could do was reach for Luke and pull his son close as well.

Bright sunlight filtered down through the trees encircling the village, casting prisms around the little family and the breeze pulled at them. But all the world around him was forgotten. It didn't matter. He had the galaxy, right here in his arms.

* * *

sniff Yeah! :D

Caslia


	37. The Failed Prophecy: Chapter 1

What better time to write a post then on Christmas day, when you are infused with the holiday spirit, traditional carols are playing, its snow white outside, and your choices are help in the kitchen, or sit and listen to the old farts talk about the state of the world and how, back in _their _day, things would never have gotten this bad. glares So! Holiday cheer! Right! :D Where were we?

* * *

Chapter Seven:

_The Failed Prophecy_

Three years after _Rebirth of the Light. . . _

* * *

It was the little things that killed him.

It was the moments he had thought lost to him forever. The touch of grass under his bare feet. The smell of a new planet, where he had lived for the past three years but never really been a part of. How others could now see the humor twinkling in his eyes. The rebirth of child-like wonder at the world around him.

The entire galaxy, it seemed, had only just come alive. Or maybe it was him. Maybe he was finally seeing the life around him, in the day to day chores and movements, in the small looks exchanged between beings that said so much.

Every time he was one of those sharing those looks, his heart sang.

After their joyous reunion in the village, Anakin lay in the grass and played with his children for hours. He loved just looking at them, just watching them run about and tackle each other and sometimes even him. Luke and Leia were at first hesitant as to whether or not they could play with their father as they had with their mother and Obi-wan. Before, they had told to be careful. Now, Anakin encouraged them to climb all over him, and he grabbed hold and tickled one of them.

His children's laughter nearly brought tears to his eyes. He had so much he could share with them now, could be so much more a part of their lives.

Padme sat beside her husband, and simply ran her fingers through his hair as they watched the twins. Despite the years apart, despite everything that had come between then and brought them closer in ways Anakin had had to endure while in the suit, Padme seemed utterly content at that moment with just that light touch.

Occasionally, she leaned down and kissed him, gently, just because she could. And he read in her eyes the thousand things they would have to talk about later. The change she knew this would bring to their lives, and to hers and Ani's relationship. But it would have to come later. For now, he simply wanted to be here, in the moment.

That moment, and a hundred others he longed to have last.

"Hey, Dad!" Anakin rolled over and smiled at his son. Luke curled up next to his father, grinning like his face might split. "Are you coming home with us?"

"Yes, Luke." He sighed, pulling his younger child close, loving the feel of just holding the boy. Three years of wanting to hold his boy, hold his tiny body close against his chest and protect him, love him. "Yes, son. I'm coming home with you. But things are going to be a little different now."

"Because you don't have to wear the mask any more."

"That's right."

Luke didn't frown, but Anakin could feel him concentrating, thinking things through for himself. He was so proud of his boy, being so bright and intelligent at such a young age. But it also worried him. He didn't want his son to grow up too fast. "What is it, son?"

"That's going to change a lot of things, isn't it."

"Yes."

But that wasn't it either. The boy continued to think quietly to himself for a few minutes. Anakin laid back and watched the clouds passing overhead through the branches of the trees. It was so very beautiful. He could feel the wind brush against his cheeks, could hear the villagers not to far away, as they continued to live their simple lives.

He wanted that. He wanted that simple life without complications, for himself and for his children. But, of course, there was the war, and the Empire. And Palpatine.

"You won't stay."

"What?"

Pulled back from his drifting thoughts, Anakin turned to find Luke raised up on his elbow, considering his father with those expressionless blue eyes of his. Like ice, cold and empty. "You won't stay with us."

"Luke. . . son, why would you think that? I'm not going to leave you, or your sister. Your mother and I will always be there for you. We love you, son. I love you. I'm not going to leave you alone, ever."

But he didn't need the Force to know his son knew differently. Somehow, Luke knew Anakin would leave, one day, to fight the Emperor. To fulfill his destiny. How, he didn't know, and he didn't have the words he needed to tell his father that he knew. The son of Skywalker was still too young for that. But he could reach out to his father in the Force and brush their presences together gently.

It was an understanding, forgiving touch, and Anakin wondered what his son knew that he did not.

* * *

Eventually, Padme, who had been braiding Leia's hair as she listened to her husband and son talk, rose and beckoned her other child to her. Luke climbed to his feet and walked to his mother, the solemn expression on his little face replaced with youth's innocence and exuberance. But she had seen that look on her boy's face, just as Anakin had.

The two of them exchanged the look of concerned parents, but let the moment pass.

Leaving the twins for the moment to spy on a ladybug, Padme stepped toward Anakin and smiled hesitantly. She desperately wanted to wrap her arms around him, but couldn't quite bring herself to 

do it yet. After the wonder of seeing him again, whole and human, there was the reminder of everything that had come between them, from the life before this one and the past few years.

It would take time, before their relationship was what it had been. But she could wait. So for the moment, she clutched her hands together and stared at his Jedi boots. She could feel his eyes on her, understanding, patiently waiting. Anakin would let her make the first of every move; always sure she was comfortable with the situation. At last, she brought her eyes up to his, seeing the shining love there. Her own emotions echoed his.

"I don't want this day to end."

"It doesn't have to," he reassured her, reaching out slowly to brush a curl behind her ear. "There's tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. And forever, now that we have the chance." She nodded, but then looked back down again and Anakin frowned. "Padme. . ."

"Ani."

"I know. I know things have changed. Things are going to be different. But. . . please, look at me." When she did, he swallowed and continued. "That first night, after the twin's birth, things were so awkward and I was scared. I was so terrified, because suddenly, everything was so different then it had been. I didn't know what to do. But you told me not to be afraid, that even though I was the same on the outside, I had changed. On the inside. For the better. And you were right."

Her chocolate brown eyes stared up at him, full of tears, full of love. His beautiful angel, so brave that night, wanting to sleep beside a monster. And now, in the light of day, so sad. So scared. He wanted to pull her close as he had his son. Next to his heart, where he could protect her from all the galaxy. Anakin felt his face braking into a smile, felt the warmth rising up from within.

How he loved this woman.

"You were right, Angel. I did change. But not this time. Not now. I'm still the man you've know for the past three years." He took her hand then, placed it over his heart. If the soul of a person could reside anywhere within a body, despite everyone in the galaxy being luminous beings, it was there that Anakin thought his might be. She didn't hesitant, laid her palm flat against his chest. "I'm Anakin. I haven't changed, Padme. I'm still the hopelessly lost, stumbling Jedi Knight who fell in love with you all those years ago. Only," he shrugged helplessly, a self-critiquing smile teasing the corner of his lips, "a little battered and beaten. Hopefully into humility," he joked.

"Humility?" Padme smiled now too, then leaned in and kissed him gently. "I'm not quite sure that suits you, Anakin Skywalker."

"You'll just have to stick around and find out if it does."

"I'm not the one planning on going anywhere." She reminded him, none too gently, before turning and taking the hands of the twins. They needed their afternoon nap, but he would see them again in the latter part of the evening.

As his family made their way back to Home One base, Anakin was left standing outside of the village, alone.

Curse the Force, all he wanted was this moment, to have this all to himself, and they were already reminding him it wouldn't last. Already both his son and his wife knew eventually, he would have to leave them and be the Jedi he should have been years ago. Back to war, to the struggle between Light and Dark. Back to death and betrayal. And in doing so, maybe never see them again.

He didn't want to think about this! Was it too much to ask that he have time with his children, his wife, before he had to think of the rest of the galaxy?

Just the little moments. Just the passing instances that others took so easily for granted that shot like laser to his heart and killed him in their bitter sweetness. That was all he wanted. All he had ever wanted, Force damn it.

But then, he had always wanted too much.

Had wanted to be a Jedi Knight and a husband. Had wanted to be there for his mother and do his duty by protecting Padme and following orders. And when the war had started, Anakin had wanted to both protect the galaxy and those he loved, and destroy an Order he had seen as responsible for the destruction of his dreams.

And while time had proven it was his arrogance and his naivety that had made Anakin believe his power was so great he could have both, have it his way, he was surprised to find he was still fool enough to want it to be that way still.

He _wanted_ to be the father his children deserved and be here for them. But being a good father meant protecting them, and protecting them meant doing what was right and destroying the Emperor.

"I don't know what to do." He sighed at last, letting the wind carry away his aggravation and confusion.

"With so many changes so soon, I'm not surprised."

Returning from the village where he had retreated with Jan to give the family a little privacy for the afternoon, Obi-wan smiled reassuringly when he saw the worry on his young friend's face. The Jedi Master's presence, and his warmth, was a balm to the sudden storm that had risen in Anakin and he shrugged it off, letting the moment pass.

"Don't worry so much," Kenobi chided him, placing a hand on the younger Jedi's shoulder. "Everything will sort itself out in the end."

"Since when did you become such an optimist?"

Obi-wan chuckled. It was good to see Anakin's humor returning. That last week in the ward had made him cranky and rather demanding. And on top of that was the pressure, rather than the relief, of his being healed. Change had never really sat well with Kenobi, but this one was bothering Skywalker more.

It would be hard for the young man to change his life, to readjust to living in a way he had thought lost to him. Had it been like this, Obi-wan wondered, waking up in that suit and thinking he would never be able to be a normal man again?

"Come on, let's get inside. Doctor Brie would probably chide me for letting you sit outside in the sun for so long just after recovery."

"We in a hurry for something?" Anakin asked as the two picked up speed as they neared the outer hanger to Home One and Obi-wan increased pace.

"Yes, indeed. Dinner."

* * *

Dinner.

Food. Real food. Not vitamin injections. Not pastes. Not ward mush they claimed to be edible. Real, solid, wholesome, delicious food. Anakin was practically drooling before they made it to the mess hall.

"Nothing to tough, obviously," Obi-wan was instructing him as the young Jedi barreled down the hallway. "Brie wasn't sure how much your digestive system could take-"

"I've been eating mashed up peas and carrots and bowls of bantha stew for nearly a month in the ward. I think I can handle a big, _juicy_ tenderloin steak, some fried veggies, some chocolate pudding and a cold beer to wash it down."

"Anakin-"

"Obi-wan, please." The younger Jedi gave his friend a loving but irritated look as he palmed the door to the mess hall. "It's me. I'm not going to do anything crazy."

Kenobi smirked. "That's a contradiction in terms."

The smells of the mess hall were enough to bowl any man over, mostly out of revulsion: the mess hall on Home One wasn't necessarily known for being a five star restaurant. But Anakin didn't hesitate in the door after drinking it in and deciding any food was better than none.

He stepped into line, grabbed a tray and started to pile it on. Obi-wan followed close behind, one eye on the wiggling mess the cooks were serving and another on the food his counterpart was shoveling onto his plate. He was relieved to see Anakin took only a reasonable portion, and of each of the food groups. The last thing he wanted was Brie chiding him for Skywalker's poor diet.

The alien in head of them in line glanced back, saw Anakin's plate, and waved his tentacles in a fashion that expressed surprise.

"Been on base long, kid?"

Kid? Anakin looked up, then grinned. The Quarren thought him just some young spacer working for the rebels. He thought he was just a regular human starving after being in space so long with nothing but Imperial rations.

"I hear the food here isn't that bad."

"It's not, but enough of it will make you regret your choice of diners. Take it easy."

"Sorry." Anakin just smiled, feeling young and alive and impetuous. He passed up the deserts, deciding he would save that for another time. Not too much at one time; he wanted to savor each taste one at a time and drown in them.

Plate only slightly wavering from all the food on it, Anakin took a seat at one of the empty tables where Obi-wan joined him a moment later. Not waiting for his friend, Anakin dug in.

It was delicious. Better than he could ever have remembered eating. Bantha stew wasn't bad, especially when his mom had made it with what little they had had. But none of the delicate cuisine he had eaten while in service to the Jedi on missions or with Padme at Nabooian affairs came anywhere close to this feast. All refried or mashed up or watered down to have enough for all the crews that stopped through Home One; nothing was as fine as eating for the first time in some four years.

When there wasn't a scrap left, when he had mopped the last of it up with his slice of bread and scrapped the sides, Anakin sat back and beamed.

"Feeling better?" Obi-wan grinned across the table, having enjoyed the sight of his friend devour the meal.

"There is very, very little that could make me happier than I am at this very moment." Anakin eyed the bite of food Obi-wan had left on his plate. "Sooo. . . how long before I'm released for the ward and we go home?"

"Well, Doctor Brie already released you, so you're free to go. I think we should take tomorrow and make sure everything is in order. After that, you and Padme can head back as soon as you're ready. I'm sure the twins will be ready to go home."

Sputtering as he put down a cup of coffee he hadn't realized tasted as awful as it did before, Anakin bit back an oath. "I noticed you said Padme and I, not we. Where are you going?"

"No where."

When Anakin waited, not saying anything, the Jedi Master sighed and sat down his own cup of drivel. "No, Anakin, I'm not coming home with you. And before you say anything, I do have my reasons."

"I'm listening."

"First off, there's a lot here that the council could use my help with. Not to mention eventually Master Yoda is going to return, bringing with him whatever Jedi he may have found that survived the Purges, and is going to need someone in an official position to set things up for them here. Decisions need to be made, actions take. The war between rebels and the Empire is going to come to a head soon. We need to be ready. Secondly, we need to have a plan of attack for when we face Palpatine. I'm hoping to find Sabé," Kenobi's face fell for a moment, but it was gone so fast Anakin didn't have a chance to remark upon it, "hopefully, from her and the other agents, I can put something together that will give us a chance against the Emperor."

"You realize you're talking about an offensive attack against the most powerful Force user the Order has ever encountered."

"Yes."

"Offensive. Not defensive. That's not the Jedi way."

"Desperate times call for desperate measures."

"I see. And none of this has anything to do with this being the first time in four years Padme and I will be alone. Together."

Obi-wan smiled innocently, then took another sip of the rancid coffee. Anakin shook his head and sighed.

"So you're encouraging renewed relations between myself and my wife, and preparing a strike on the Emperor? Obi-wan, I don't know whether to be pleased or disappointed."

"What?"

"You realize you're approving of behaving that only a few years ago you would have condoned as improper for a Jedi and would have lectured me fervently against.

"Which one?"

"Both."

Kenobi chuckled and shrugged. "Like you said, times have changed. You've changed. When it comes to the Emperor, I don't think the old methods of dealing with enemies are going to be of any use."

In silent agreement, Anakin remembered how easily Palpatine had outmaneuvered and subtly manipulated the Jedi before. And that had been when there were some ten thousand of them. The majority of the Jedi had died during the attack on the Jedi Temple, and then there were the hundreds he had tracked down in the first year following the end of the Clone Wars. Surely if Palpatine could handle the Jedi at their full power, despite how complacent they had become, then the two thousand desperate Jedi left, little padawans and masterless apprentices included, would pose no threat to him.

That left the few full knights and masters that had survived.

And the Chosen One.

Damn that cursed prophecy for putting him up to this. For ruining his life and those he loved, and all the beings in the galaxy who had no place in this. Those not even important enough to be chess pieces on the Force's board between Light and Dark.

Billions of mothers and fathers, just wanting what was best for their children. How well he knew how they felt.

"No," Anakin agreed, gathering up his utensils on his tray. Now he wished he hadn't eaten at all. Thoughts of the Emperor and the war turned it all to lead in his gut. "No, we've got to remember the Empire has the backing of the majority of the old Republic's provinces and systems. I don't like the thought of having to tiptoe around on egg shells, but we've got to pull this off without initiating a galactic war before the Alliance is ready. One wrong step, the entire galaxy will turn against the rebels. Palpatine's tyranny is only obvious to so few; the rest are still rejoicing from the collapse of the Republic's corruption and the end of the Clone Wars."

"I'm proud of you, Ani. You're sounding like a real Jedi Knight, considering all angles and the political opposition against us."

"It comes from having lived with a general and a senator for the past few years."

They took their plates to the dispenser and left the mess hall. Kenobi suggested they meditate, but Anakin didn't want to sit still. He had always done his best thinking while on the move or keeping his hands busy.

He took to cleaning the droids while his old friend went through a few relaxation techniques. Threepio was most grateful and chatted about this and that as Anakin worked on his back paneling, but Skywalker could have been in a totally different system for all he heard of what the droid said.

His mind was on the touch of wires between his fingers, the quiet inhalation of breath. The lingering taste of his meal. And the Emperor.

* * *

By the time evening rolled around, the end of his first day out of the ward, Anakin was both energized and utterly drained. He wanted nothing more than a long hot shower and to crawl into bed in the room he and Obi-wan were to share. It reminded him very much of his days as an apprentice, after an exceedingly long training exercise.

He was worn to the bone, his skin threadbare from all the sensations he had experienced; his senses felt abused. At the same time he desperately wanted to feel more, do more. Had the Jedi Master agreed, he and Obi-wan would have practiced dueling just so he could use all his excess energy.

"It will pass," Kenobi had explained, grinning behind his hand. It was only because he had been in bed so long, combined with his new thirst for life.

But Anakin didn't want it to pass. He wanted to keep feeling like this, to never take for granted a single breath or touch or taste. Wanted to run till he thought be might burst from the pure joy of it. How could he have lived those twenty two years and never realized how _alive_ he was? How much there was to do, or feel!

Suddenly, for a man who as a boy could never focus on one thing for very long unless it was machinery or flying, found even the tiniest thing, like the petals on the flowers Leia had stuck in her hair, absolutely incredible. The detail, the life! So soft to the touch and so alive.

One by one, his systems started to shut down, however. Worn thin by his exuberance, killed, as it was, by the small things, Anakin was ready for sleep long before the normal rest cycle.

But there was one thing he needed to do first.

Dragging himself to Padme's quarters and ringing the bell, a feat all its own, Anakin went to tell his children goodnight.

They were already abed by the time he got there, but not yet asleep.

"Daddy," Leia grinned when her father entered the room, curled up in the covers. Her hair had been washed and braided, and she smelled of little girl and tooth paste and daisies.

"Hey there, princess. I came to tell you goodnight. Sorry I haven't been here lately to tell you."

"S'aright." His little girl grinned, understanding. It had been his and twins' ritual back home that Anakin would tiptoe into the room after Padme had tuck the children in and turned out the light. They would giggle, thinking their mother didn't know he was keeping them awake. Then Anakin would sit on the bed and hug both his children close against his chest, whispering he would be there if they needed him in the darkness. He was their guardian against nightmares, the shadow that kept all other terrors at bay. "I knew you would come when you were better," His little sweetheart reached out for him and Anakin pulled her close.

Tears stinging his eyes, Anakin leaned down and kissed his daughter on her forehead, breathing in her sweet scent.

"Goodnight, Leia. Sleep well, sweetheart."

Reaching up, Leia grabbed her father's ears and pulled his head down to her level. Anakin complied, then felt a shock run through him as little lips gave him a cool, puckered kiss on his own head. A grinning Leia looked up at him when he pulled back.

"I will, Daddy. You too."

How could he possibly ask for anything more than that? It was all worth it, then. Everything. He would go through it all again, knowing he would get to tuck his little girl in and be blessed by her sweet kiss.

Luke lay in his own bed just across the room, already dozing. But he awoke when his father came to sit by his side of the bed. Instead of their usual goodnight, he simply placed his hand in Anakin's and hung on. For the longest time, the two watched each other, Luke somehow understanding this was a very special moment they were being granted. Not for the first time, Anakin was unsettled by his son's clairvoyance.

The boy held his hand in his father's till at last he drifted off and Anakin snuck quietly out of the room.

* * *

:D Yeah! A post! :D And all in one day!

Happy Holidays everyone!

Caslia


	38. The Failed Prophecy: Chapter 2

* * *

Hey, sorry, I know its been a long time. More soon after this one as well. :D

* * *

Chapter Seven:

_The Failed Prophecy_

Three years after _Rebirth of the Light. . ._

* * *

Life also seemed so complicated. Even though Anakin was eager for the weeks ahead, when it would just be him, the twins and his wife at the cottage, he was already regretting Obi-wan's choice to stay behind. The Jedi Master was so much a part of his life now, it felt strange knowing Kenobi would not be there to turn to whenever Anakin needed him to be.

But he was right, of course. Eventually, the Jedi would come, along with Master Yoda. They had to start making plans. There would need to be some plan of attack, some way to coordinate the Jedi's efforts with those of the Alliance. Even though the war had been subdued over the past two months, Anakin had no doubt that Imperials were simply waiting for the time to strike. There was something their enemies knew that the rebels did not. It was bad enough he could no longer sense the Emperor through the Force; now he had to be concerned with the entire Imperial fleet showing up and attacking the rebels in full force.

If anyone could plan a defense against that kind of offensive, Obi-wan could. Not only did he have the ear of the Alliance council members and Master Yoda, he had been a general in the Clone Wars and knew his way around a battlefield.

If Anakin regretted not being the leader and warrior his former master was, he ignored it and focused on the days ahead. Days when he could run and play with his children; could eat in the kitchen with them, and a thousand other things he had missed in their lives. Days he knew could very well be short and few, if the events in the galaxy turned against the rebellion. But Anakin would make the most of them, cherish every moment, both day and night, till war called him away again.

Complications: he would be glad to see Obi-wan when they met again, but it would mean it was time to leave his family and join the fight.

Anakin sighed, and tried not to think about it.

"You've got that look on your face again, Ani."

"What look?" Grinning, he turned to his wife sitting next to him in the speeder, the wind whipping stands of hair from its binding and into her face. She looked back at him, so much love in her eyes.

"That look you get when you're confused or frustrated about something. What is it? Tell me."

She reached across the seat and poked him in the ribs, teasing. Anakin tried to scoot away, even as he focused on keeping the speeder straight. Grinning, he fought her off with a free hand, but she was persistent. "Argh! Padme, stop it! Do you want us to crash?" She laughed, knowing he would never let that happen, but stopped tickling him.

Force, it was good to be able to laugh and joke with his wife, to be able to touch her in even the most casual manner and not have either or them pulling away in embarrassment and frustration. It was like all those years they had physically been apart had melted away overnight. It brought memories of the days they spent in the fields of Naboo, wrestling in the grass and teasing each other. Force, they had been so young then.

Looking at his angel, Anakin realized they still were young. Not so much as they had been before, but less time had passed then he might have thought. After all, he was only in his min-twenties, and she only four years his senior. Had it really been all those years since becoming man and wife? Anakin had thought himself old, with all he had faced and forced to overcome, all the death and war he had both seen and caused. Surely he should have been even more wrinkled and gray than Obi-wan.

Yet at the moment, he felt like he was little boy again, on his way to becoming a Jedi.

How we change, he thought, brushing the strands out of his wife's face and bending down for a quick kiss. Padme giggled, but didn't shy away.

Alone with Padme for the next few weeks. Anakin grinned, and gunned the engine.

He saw the grove of trees first as they came over the hills down into the little valley, then the little cottage that had grown into a house, and the ship waiting faithfully not far off. As they crested the hill, Anakin took a deep breath and let it out slowly at the sight.

Home.

Though he wasn't sure when it had become 'home' and not just a house, Anakin had to admit it was the only home he had ever known he was glad to return to. It wasn't a slave's cell or a Jedi's impersonal quarters or the formal rooms of the Naboo estate. It was the place his children had been born and raised, where Anakin had found himself and lived in something as close to peace and contentment as he had ever known.

As a Jedi, and as a young man who despised his homeplanet, Skywalker had never understood the songs the refugees sang about missing their homes, wanting nothing more than return because that was where their souls resided. Now he felt he could sing one of those songs. Here, he would always return. To this house, and this family. This was home.

They parked out front and the twins hoped out of the back, no doubt excited to be home after being gone so long. Leia ran to open the door for her mother while Luke helped Anakin unload the droids. He looked around and sighed.

"Glad to be home, son?" Anakin pulled out one of the bags and handed another to his wife. Luke reached in for one too, though it was obviously too heavy for him. Chuckling, his father took it from him before he collapsed from the weight. "You get to sleep in your own bed tonight, in your own room. No more cold, empty rooms like on the base."

"I'm going to miss the other children in the village." Leia mumbled, scrambling in the speeder to get her Wookie doll out of the back seat before she forgot.

The boy turned his bright gaze from the house and looked at his father in that way that always reminded Anakin of Qui-gon Jinn.

"Where are you gonna sleep, Dad?"

Anakin hesitated, then glanced up at Padme. She shrugged, then smiled, clearly leaving it up to him to explain to his children. Not that they were any where near old enough for _that_ discussion yet. But 

they had grown up probably thinking all parents slept apart in different rooms, though for different reasons then those that had kept their mother and father apart.

He wasn't sure what to say, as Anakin didn't know the answer himself. It was too soon to share the same bed as Padme. For all their loving looks and gentle clasping of hands, they were still very much strangers in some ways.

Deciding it was best to compromise, Anakin cleared his throat. "Well, I no longer have to sleep in the cubicle, Luke."

"So you're going to sleep in Mom's room with her?"

Anakin gulped. Force, just how much did his son know?!

"Um, eventually, yes. But tonight, I think everyone will be happy to. . . umm. . . just have their own beds tonight, after sleeping in a strange place for so long. Mom's going to want her bed to herself. But, yes, Luke. Mom and I will share a room together."

Leia didn't seem the least interested in the conversation and after finding her doll, gave her father a hug. "I'm glad we're home, Daddy." Then she turned and ran inside, past a blushing Padme.

But Luke continued to stare at his father till Anakin felt a little embarrassed and uncomfortable, like he was a Padawan again facing down Obi-wan's questioning. But Luke didn't seem to be accusing him of anything and finally just nodded before turning away.

Anakin let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding before looking to Padme, still standing in the doorway, her cheeks red. Catching his look, she laughed then stepped over to pull him into a hug.

"It's okay, Ani. He's just worried about you. Luke doesn't know anything."

"I _hope_ not!" Anakin exclaimed, looking mildly distraught. "He's just a boy! Where could he have gotten ideas like that?! I read those baby books you gave me. Kids don't grow up _that_ fast!"

"Well, he had been hanging out with the pilots in Home One's hanger. . . "

When her husband looked like he was about to collapse, Padme laughed and hugged him again before grabbing the bag he was desperately clutching. "Oh, calm down, Ani. I was only kidding. But, were you serious, about sleeping somewhere else tonight?"

Trying to shrug aside his surprise at the uncomfortable conversation a moment ago, Anakin sighed. Lightly brushing his hand against Padme's as she took the bag from him, he smiled shyly. "I think, for the time being, it might be best. Just to . . .you know, get used to thing again."

"Things haven't changed between us that much, have they?"

"I just. . . I just need a little time, love."

"And you didn't want to feel like you were rushing me into anything." Padme turned, dragging the bags to the door. Anakin jumped around her, momentarily rejoicing in his new mobility, and held the door open for her.

"That too, but I didn't think you'd pick up on it."

"I've lived with four Force-sensitive people in the same house for three years now." She kissed him as she passed, smirking slightly. "I've had to develop a few defenses of my own, you know."

Grinning, Anakin closed the door behind him and breathed in the scent of home.

* * *

"Daddy, look at me! Look, Daddy! Look! Daaadddddyyyy!!"

"Just a minute, Leia." Anakin called, knowing he should be exasperated by the tone in his daughter's demanding voice. But he grinned instead and raised up from where he had been laying in the grass in the backyard, staring at the clouds.

His little princess took a step, then spun on her toes, no doubt some sort of dance step she had made up on her own. When she was finished, she dropped the little curtsy her mother had taught her and grinned, mouth full of little baby teeth and eyes full of proud glee.

Laughing, Anakin stood up and ducked under the hanging tree branches to his daughter. "That was wonderful, Leia!"

"Mommy taught me! She said she used to dance at big parties and wear real pretty dresses! She was a queen! I want to be a queen!"

"Maybe one day," her father smiled, "Right now, you're my little princess. When you grow up, you can be anything you want."

Leia thought about that, before looking seriously up at him. She looked like her mother even more when she did that, the way her brow creased and her lips pulsed. It made Anakin's heart ache, thinking of how beautiful she would be when she was older. An angel, like her mother, if not a queen.

"Anything?"

"Anything," the Jedi promised, wanting to give his little girl anything her little heart desired.

Eyeing him with the intensity only children can, Leia asked, "You don't want me to be a Jedi like you and Uncle Obi? Luke is gonna be a Jedi."

"Oh, is he now? Not a prince?"

"No! Not a prince." She said in a huff, like her father obviously should have known this. "Luke said he's going to be a Jedi, just like you! But he says he doesn't know why."

Bending down, Anakin looked at his daughter, wondering. Luke always kept those sort of things to himself, not so much because he was still so young, the twins' third birthday passing the day after they had arrived, but because the boy was always quiet. Ever since he had started talking, Luke had said things that were both extremely intelligent for his age, and frightening at the same time. Somehow, the boy already knew about the war and that his father might go away. Luke understood that Anakin had, at one time, been someone else and they had been lucky to get him back, and that it was very important the Jedi be restored.

How Luke knew all this, Anakin didn't know, but it worried him that his son had such strong insight.

But as little as Luke spoke of things like what he wanted to be when he grew up, Leia spoke even less of the things her brother told her. Their parents watched them sometimes, and noticed that whenever 

Luke spoke to his sister, Leia listened very carefully and always nodded with understanding. But she would never say anything about it later. Their whispered conversations were as secret from their parents as the thoughts and emotions the twins shared across their mental bond.

This was the first time Leia had openly spoken to her father about anything Luke had said like this. Now, she seemed to hesitate, obviously thinking that maybe she shouldn't have said anything.

"It's okay, honey," Anakin encouraged, hoping she might say more. "Luke wants to be a Jedi, but he doesn't know why?" Leia nodded, biting her lip. "Why doesn't he know, Leia?

"Luke. . . Luke says. . .he says things aren't the way . . .the way that. . ."

"The way? What way? Leia, what does Luke say? What does he mean?"

"Things are different. But I like things this way, Daddy! I don't want it that way! I don't, I don't!" Her little eyes filled with fear and she looked about to cry. Instinctively, Anakin reached out and pulled his daughter close, whispering soft words to calm her. "I don't, Daddy. I don't, I don't."

"I know, princess. I know."

But he didn't. Anakin didn't have a clue what his daughter was talking about or why Luke might have said it. The clairvoyance of his son had always worried him, but now that fear increased. What did Luke know? What 'way' had things meant to be that they weren't now? Anakin desperately wanted to go ask his son, but knew he wouldn't get an answer. The boy would just stare at him, like he didn't understand.

"I can be a Jedi too, can't I, Daddy?" Sniffled Leia, wiping her nose on her sleeve and staring up at him with big brown eyes. "Uncle Obi is a Jedi. And Luke is gonna be a Jedi. Can I be a Jedi?"

"What about being a queen?" Anakin sighed, glad for the change of subject but wishing he had found out more.

"I'll be the queen of the Jedi!"

Laughing, wondering what Master Yoda might say to such an arrogant and yet utterly innocent statement, Anakin picked his daughter up. "Well, if you're going to be a queen, you have to know how to dance. Here, I'll show you. Stand on my feet, like this. And see, when I move my feet, you'll come too. See, we're dancing!"

Leia laughed and clung to her father's hands, dancing with him slowly under the tree.

Padme watched them from the backdoor, smiling. She had been meaning to call them in for lunch, but seeing them that way, it would have broken her heart to interrupt. Her husband's laughter echoed across the yard.

Returning to the kitchen, she packed the sandwiches in a basket along with some fruit and brought it outside. Shaking out a blanket, Padme sat and watched father and daughter till they noticed her and came over.

When Luke wandered over from where he had been digging in the flowerbed, Anakin stared at his son curiously, wondering. But Leia refused to meet her brother's gaze.

* * *

Caslia


	39. The Failed Prophecy: Chapter 3

Hey, everyone! I know it's been a while, sorry. Taking some time off (mostly unintentional) allowed for me focus on my school work and Darth Real Life, but I was also confused as to where this story was going from here, as these later chapters were kinda vague when I thought about them. Add to that, that I became a major Spike fan during last semester (GO SPUFFY!) and I just kinda fell out of the SW mood.

That is, till I saw RotS. Which was, without question, the best of the Prequel Trilogy films.

Just so everyone is clear, remember the events of Anakin's turning are different in this story than GL's version (cuz, duh, we didn't know it). I think we're past the point of that mattering, but if anyone is confused, let me know and I will try to clear that up.

Well, RotL has taken a little bit of rewriting. The third chapter in the original RotL fic, titled _Rain_ is probably not going to make an appearance, nor will the events fit the five year time line it was originally supposed to. I am somewhat proud to say the story has grown beyond the perimeters I set for it when originally deciding to write the 'missing years'. Which, I have now decided has been a lot of fun and am glad I did it.

So, you can kind of look at it this way. For people who only want to read the original, _Rain_ is a nice way of summing up all the events and changes in Anakin's new life into one short chapter. For those who wanted more, there is this story. And we're not quite finished just yet. There's still more ahead

And no movie spoilers here, people. As much as I am dying to discuss the film with SW people (my friends just don't get it ) I'll have to catch you on MSN, PM or something. None of that here, we have to be fair. :D

Even though the twins are only now three (and I'm not much good with knowing how kids act at certain ages) I decided they were old enough for a scene of their own. So we're starting this post with Luke and Leia, which kinda seemed appropriate considering where I left you with the last post.

And if you think you know what's coming glances at TJM I promise you I still have a few surprises and an unusual plot twist or two on the way. wink

* * *

Chapter Seven:

_The Failed Prophecy_

Three years after _Rebirth of the Light. . . _

* * *

They sat together under the great oak tree that stood guardian in the front of their home in the countryside. Hundreds of years old, it blocked the winds that blew constantly across the grassy hills, offered shade, and a quiet place the twins could talk without their parents hearing. Beneath its great branches, they could pretend there was no one but just Luke and Leia, nothing but their bond.

"You don't have to worry, Leia. Everything is okay."

Leia looked at her brother, concern evident on her face, but tried to smile bravely for him. She had been hesitant around him for about a week after she had spoken with her father, feeling just a little guilty for saying stuff he had told her was a secret.

But Luke just gave her that warm, understanding look, and the smile he reserved just for her. His Leia. And she had known everything was okay between them.

Grinning the way that always made her think of the sun, Luke nodded again and turned back to his tiny fighter toys, flying them deftly through the air. He had asked his father to carve him little figures 

of Jedi Knights, but Anakin had chosen space craft instead. He didn't want his son to think war, of any kind, was a game. Not when they lived in such troubled time. Somehow, ships seemed safer than knights. And though Luke might not have understood this, despite all the other things he grasped so easily for young so terribly young, he had graciously accepted the toys. Now, the Naboo fighter victoriously flew past the wobbling droid ship and Luke grinned.

He was going to be a pilot one day. Dad had been both a pilot and a Jedi, and Luke figured he could be too, if he tried really hard and paid close attention to his and Obi-wan's teachings.

Leia felt her brother's momentary sadness and sighed.

"I miss him too. Luke, when is Uncle Obi coming home?"

"I don't know, Leia. I don't think any time soon. He's fighting the war against the Empire." The boy looked thoughtful and set his toys aside. "Dad's going to join him."

"When?"

"Pretty soon, I think. Something has happened, Leia, something…different. It's changed things."

"Again?" Shaking her head, the little girl moved closer to her twin, feeling safe when the children held their hands. There were so many things she didn't understand. So many things changing in a galaxy so large she had to clench her eyes close to imagine all the star systems and people Luke talked about.

It had been a long time since Leia had questioned her brother about how he knew the things he did. Why should she? He was always right. And sometimes, through their bond, she could see some of the things he did, could feel the Force reach out for the boy and whisper things in his ears. She trusted the things Luke knew, but sometimes she just wished it would all go away and leave them alone.

"This is what we are, Leia" Luke instructed his sister, catching that last depressing thought. "We can't help what we are any more than Dad can."

"I don't want him to go! I want him and Uncle Obi _here_, with us!"

"And what about all the other people out there who need them? What about them, Leia?"

The girl pouted, knowing he was, as always, right. Sometimes, her brother's insight could be so annoying. It wasn't that she was selfish; she had come to understand her father had a destiny. But the fear of loosing him, of Luke's dark visions coming true, made her want to cling to her daddy and never, ever let go. So young, Leia wasn't quite sure what she feared would happen if she let go, but something in Luke's eyes, shining with a maturity that was beyond her, told her it couldn't be good.

Luke looked at his sister and sighed, wishing he could take as much comfort in their clasped hands as she did. He watched her play idly with his little wooden ships and was grateful for her continued innocence.

There was so much he _couldn't_ tell her, so much he just didn't have the words for yet, at the same time knowing she wouldn't understand. How could he tell her about death, about the desperation and disorder spread across the galaxy? Luke could barely grasp it himself, understanding the images and feelings without knowing their names.

And the Force, gifting him with abstract knowledge no other three-year-old could ever comprehend. When it became too much, he would talk with his sister, hoping that if she didn't understand, at least 

she would be sympathetic. He couldn't blame her feeling the way she did about the Jedi's leaving, either. The thought of both his dad and Obi-wan leaving…

But they had to go, he knew. Didn't make it any easier, not when he understood destiny and war and fervently whispered goodbyes exchanged for maybe the last time.

"It's alright, Leia. Things have changed, and I don't think we need to worry. Dad's going to find out and will do what needs to be done."

"When? Are you going to tell him?"

Luke looked to the porch, where his parents sat, smiling shyly at one another. He noticed their clasped hands, the way their eyes lingered and the bright aura surrounding them. A thorn of bitterness pricked the little boy, as he thought of his mom and dad being pulled apart again, just now. But he knew thinking it was unfair would change nothing. All they could do was accept their individual destinies and trust in the Force.

"I hope not."

"They worry about you, Luke." She didn't have to say why. All those months when he remained silent, listening to the Force. And now, his dad exchanged looks with their mom he didn't think his son could understand, their eyes expressing parental concern.

"I know."

* * *

_The air was so cold. It sent shivers up and down his spine, made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. The darkness hovered around him, breathing bitter mist, obscuring his vision. Anakin could just make out the Emperor's throne room, Coruscate shining through the octagonal window behind the throne._

_Two figures stood, blocking the light. One, a bent old crone of a man that Anakin recognized as the Emperor, the other vaguely familiar. He radiated confidence, not a hint of fear. Beneath the mask, he smiled smugly, then fire engulfed them all and glass shattered on the pavement thousands of feet below._

_Anakin breathed in the flames, the smoke blackening his lungs and he coughed. The iron taste of blood coated his tongue and he spat, watching as it splattered on the dusty red rocks of Sullust. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, his own, he realized and terror clawed at Anakin, threatening to drag him under. Somewhere in the distance he could hear Obi-wan calling to him._

_Hands outstretched, eyes locked._ You were the Chosen One! _Hands clasped, as they had not before, and he was pulled from flames, the pain fading._

_Eyes of the Force, endless, eternal, watching him._

_The galaxy tilted on its axis, righted itself, and somehow, he was still standing. His feet had been about to slip out from under him and yet his balance had not faltered._

_But when he looked up, it wasn't Obi-wan who was holding his hand. A dark-haired little boy, no older than twelve, smirked, hand outstretched even as his liquid chocolate brown eyes glittered with bitterness. Jaded, compared to the innocent slave boy who stared back at him in wonder and confusion._

_And he heard his son's words, as though they were his own, some stray thought, some nagging thought in the back of his mind. Somehow, he had always known it was true._

This isn't the way things were meant to be.

_And yet, despite everything, the gratitude he knew he should feel, the relief, Anakin found him drowning in a blackness more chilling than the Darkness tugging at the edges of his vision. . ._

* * *

Thrust, turn, feet gracefully completing the movement, muscles tensed. The Force pike made a shrill howling noise as he spun it above his head. Concentrating, feeling the Force bend and stretch around him, Anakin thrust with the pike, drew it back to attack an invisible opponent behind him, swung around.

The exercise helped clear his mind and strengthened his returning muscles. A body that had once screamed in protest as he fought, longing for his youthful health, now held strong and melded with the mechanics of his limbs. But even as he felt the peace offered by physical exertion, the visions nagged at his consciousness.

His nightmares had returned.

Ever since the accident that had led to his surgery at _Home One_, the dreams in which he murdered the Jedi had receded. Even as he knew it was mostly because of the drugs and then from being worn thin by his senses, Anakin had partially hoped the night time visions had finally left him in peace. Like the voices that had led him to his family and eventually redemption, surely they would pass in time.

But now they returned, with a vengeance as if to make up for his short-lived peace. And where there had once been blood and death, he now faced flames and confused, followed by a deep-seeded sense of loss.

Most disconcerting was the appearance of the Emperor in his nightmares. While in the early years it was not that unusual, considering he was the one who had ordered Anakin to destroy his old brethren, Palpatine's lack of presence in the Force made Skywalker concerned about this new venue of communication. He wondered, briefly, if the Sith Master might have discovered a way to control his old apprentice through his dreams. But nothing had happened as of yet to suggest they were anything more than nightmares.

Except that they continued to haunt him in the waking hours.

Meditating on these visions had proved fruitless, and he hesitated on calling Obi-wan about something that could be nothing more than the curse of a redeemed Sith Lord. Accepting he would forever live with the crimes he had committed, the lives he had taken, was turning out to be a little more difficult he had hoped it would be.

But then, he had always looked for the easy way out.

Which was why he now stood in the meditation room he had shared with Obi-wan, cushions pushed against the wall, going through practice rounds. If he focused, let go of his distractions as Jedi were taught, maybe he might find. . . well, something.

"I don't know how you can get only a wink of sleep, then get up and do this every morning."

Grinning, Anakin turned to find his wife standing in the doorway, arms cross and gazing at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. He couldn't help it when the blood rushed to his face as he realized he was topless and dripping sweat on the polished wood floor.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Watching you? Long enough." Padme grinned mischievously and stepped into the room. "So, are you going to tell me or not?"

"First I should ask you how it is you even know I haven't been sleeping well. I hope I haven't been keeping you awake as well."

She stopped just short of him, staring. Padme sighed, intentionally far enough from Anakin that she didn't invade his personal space and close enough if she reached out, she would be able to brush her fingertips across his bare chest.

Her eyes lowered from his eyes to his lips, to the skin stretched over lean shoulders, the chest that rose and fell as he breathed. In the warm light of Thanatina, his skin had tanned a golden glow. She longed to let her hands follow her eyes, to run along his side, pull him to her and kiss the breath out of his healed lungs.

Wanted to see the same passion in his eyes she knew most shine in her own. But Padme hung back, aware he was still healing, emotionally. Still afraid of hurting her, of being unable to control his feelings.

"Padme?"

His voice called her back from her thoughts and she met cool, smiling eyes, clouded with just a hint of confusion. Couldn't Anakin see what he was doing to her?

Men could be so Force-blind stupid.

"No," she said at last, still staring at him, to the point Anakin almost felt his skin burn. He longed to reach for her, pull her against him and kiss her senseless. Longed to run his hands through her hair and breathe in her scent as she closed her eyes in ecstasy, in wonder as his mouth roamed down her throat. "No, you're not keeping me up. I was just worried about you."

"I'm fine, love. Just nightmares. Comes with the territory, I guess." He shrugged, not wanting to concern her.

"If it would make you feel. . . safer, give you some comfort, you're welcome to sleep in bed with me." Padme smiled, softly this time, with compassion. "I could be your guardian angel, as it were. Keep the dreams at bay."

How tempting that offer was. To sleep beside her on warm sheets. To wrap her in his arms and hold her close as they drifted off. He had longed for it and feared it for as long as he could remember. Didn't want to push things, was afraid of what he might do. Recently, they had come so close, so close to being the husband and wife they had been all those years ago. Had reached that comfort level with each other.

And that was all he wanted. To be the man worthy of his Angel. To be a strong husband, a good father. But he couldn't. He was the Chosen One. He had a destiny.

"I wouldn't want to keep you awake."

"You won't. Please, Anakin. Just. . . come tonight. Nothing will happen if you don't want it to."

Looking at her then, Anakin could see the loneliness in her eyes, her sorrow. And he couldn't refuse her, even though he knew he should, if only to protect her.

"Alright."

Her smile was enough to light the room, to cast aside his fears. In her presence, at least, Anakin could find some peace.

* * *

Hope you liked. :D

Caslia


	40. The Failed Prophecy: Chapter 4

I know, I know. And it's completely understandable if you're furious about the delay. If you want to throw rotten veggies, fine. If you want to flame me, fine. If you want to tell me off and leave, never to return, do that too. Just…read the first little section here and tell me you don't want to know what happens next.

* * *

Chapter Seven:

_The Failed Prophecy_

Three years after _Rebirth of the Light. . ._

Years later, when the Jedi were once again under suspect, fleeing for their lives to distant parts of the galaxy and seeking what they hoped was temporary sanctity from the other beings of the galaxy, Luke would be asked to deny his Jedi heritage and take arms against his brethren. And while agreeing to the conditions presented him might have saved himself and his family further heartache, the young Jedi, only some thirty years old at the time, would decline.

The memory of his father on the night he learned the prophecy of the Chosen One had failed kept Luke bound to his chosen loyalties. Back rigid against the pillars that guarded the entrance to the Jedi Temple on Alderaan, Skywalker would calmly refuse the command; for all the galaxy looking like the ideal image of what a Jedi should be, with his father's strong spirit and his uncle's genteel demeanor.

A shot would ring out, and Luke would close his eyes, imagining the gray and bearded image of Qui-gon appearing to catch him as he fell, like so many times before.

* * *

The storm reminded Anakin of the night when his children were still just babes in the cradle, and Leia called out to him through the darkness, fearful of the lightening. It had been a long time since then, some two and a half years, if he remembered correctly. It seemed so long ago, when, as a man encased in black armor, he had crept to her room and offered her assurances even as his own inner turmoil took hold. And yet, not so long ago, as though his daughter had been that small thing, that tiny bundle all wrapped in soft linen only the week before.

Having been told by his master that it had seemed Anakin would never grow up, and yet it happened all within the blink of an eye, Skywalker had known in advance his children wouldn't last as little children, no matter how much he longed for them to.

What he had not been expecting, of course, was Luke's unusual and at times frightening maturity. Leia's slip the other day in the garden, crying something Anakin could only half decipher and not in the least understand, had made him all the more cautious of his son.

It was a terrible thing, he knew. To be constantly wary of a four-year-old, his own son, for Force sake! But there was a presence about the boy. Anakin could see it, now that Luke was growing, and the past had taught the older Skywalker to be careful of such things. Had he done so the first time…well, that went without saying, he decided to himself. What might have happened had he done something, Anakin didn't quite know where he would be today, but he was well aware of what probably would _not_ have happened.

Not for the first time, he sincerely wished Obi-wan had not stayed behind on Home One.

"Thinking again?"

Padme wasn't surprised when her silent approach in the dark of the meditation room and then the brush of her hand on his shoulder hadn't surprised her husband. Still, she noticed his hand curl tighter around his mug of hot coca. The night little more than a week ago they had shared in her bed, he had kept far to the side, and pushed the sheets between them in a ragged lump, as though creating a barricade.

All night she had felt him watching her, but had not known what to do to ease his tension without doing that which he feared the most.

Give it time, she told herself silently. "Go to bed, Ani. All this thinking won't end the war, or bring Obi-wan home any sooner."

In the darkness, lifted occasionally only by the flash of lightening out over the seemingly shifting hills, Anakin smiled. The exasperated concern in her voice reminded him of nights on Coruscate, when the nightmares would grip him, send him fleeing out onto the balcony. In a breath of fresh linens and pressed flowers, she would follow him and offer comfort. Would she be so reassuring now if she knew he was thinking such things of their son? How could he not worry?

Luke spoke, and it was like something inside of Anakin went on guard, waiting for the storm to break, for the menace to be revealed.

His once-autistic son was now a potential threat.

"Soon, love." It was all he had to offer. The thought of sleeping did not appeal to Anakin. The dreams, in which he was falling and was saved continued to plague him. While there was nothing unusual about this, and he had been expecting they would always be a part of his nighttime visions, the continued appearance of someone other than Obi-wan as his unexpected savior bothered Anakin. That, and the Emperor's throne room featured a large portion of the reoccurring dream. What it meant, he did not know.

It only added to his confusion and concern.

That gentle, understanding smile in place, the one that was meant to always remind her wayward husband he had a place beside her, Padme gathered her night gown around her and left the room, the scent of lilac trailing after her down the hall. He watched her go, before turning back to the bay windows that offered a greater view of the hills than even the senator's balcony had of Coruscate, and the warm drink in hand. The glass, on which the first rain drops left tear streaks as they fell, was cold beneath his hand, leaving a mist round his hand print.

The tension in the air had built to a rumbling climax and Anakin could feel the air begin to press down, signaling the storm was at last ready to release all its woe upon the rolling earth and their home. It was so similar to the pressure _within_ the house, the uncertainty concerning his son, his own confusion and anxiety at the delay to go to war and end all of this now, that in the spur of the moment, Anakin set aside his mug, grabbed the Jedi cloak hanging nearby, and raced for the door.

Throwing it open with unexpected force and stepping out onto the back porch, he was just in time to catch the first sheet of freezing, harsh rain. It pounded Anakin and the grass almost to the ground, but the former forced his way back up, staring up into the bright, seizures of light and the ominous clouds overhead.

Torrents of rain drenched his cloak, pushed the hood back from his face. Clothing plastered to flesh, wearing water as a second skin, Anakin felt as though he were breathing rain rather than air, and took in deep breaths to calm his racing, exhilarated heart. Easy, his mind told him, this body is still new. But his soul cried out for some release, some temporary liberation from the oppression he had felt wearing upon his shoulders the last few days.

It came from his son and the boy's shifting presence, from Padme and her sweet, tempting but ultimately dangerous persuasions, from the insistent nightmares of Palpatine, fire, choking and his own lingering failure. Where were the perils of war when he needed them, craved the feel of blade in hand? Where were answers now that he was willing to listen?

Fighting back against something so simple, so natural as a storm, something which could not be conquered nor compromised, only resisted till it passed, Anakin felt the first sigh as fears relaxed, released their grip on his soul.

He could stay out in the rain till it passed, could beat back the cold and return home, victorious, with only a cold and wet clothing to show for his efforts.

"Dad?"

The sound cut through the thunder and the beating of rain on damp earth. Anakin wanted to ignore it, wanted to shut out the voice, but too many times in the past, he had denied the voices of those he loved, who loved him, who probably wanted nothing than what was best for him. And standing out in the rain wasn't really beneficial to his health.

But, Force, all he wanted was to stay out here and continue to fight!

Lowering arms he had not even realized he had raised in defiance, Anakin turned to look through the downpour for the little form of a sodden child, standing on the bottom step off the porch. For all the water leaking through his cloak and down his arms, the sudden chill in his bones was due to something else entirely.

"Luke."

The boy hesitated, looking over his shoulder into the house's dark interior, then back out at the gray, blurred figure of his father.

"Luke, what are you doing out here? Better yet, what are you doing out of bed?"

"I should ask you the same thing. You could get sick."

The tone only further reminded Anakin of his fears, that the child in front of him, the son he cherished more than his own renewed form, could very well be a threat. And looking into his eyes, Anakin became suddenly aware that Luke knew, probably better than Anakin, what his father thought of him.

Rumbling from the heavens continued to fill the silence, sheets of rain creating a firm but shifting barrier between them.

The feeling running down his arms, making his skin tingle, prickle even where water had not touched, consolidated in the pit of his stomach. It was something Anakin remembered feeling before, years ago when he had finally given himself fully over to Palpatine. A desperate fear, a pounding trepidation that had been heated by his hatred and cooled to reveal the dark shape that was Darth Vader.

But there was something else there as well. Something that hadn't been before. A father's love for his son, maybe? A need to protect, to aid the only part of him he had thought not touched by Darkness.

"Get away from my son."

Luke stiffened, eyes wide and hands clutching the edges of his night shirt in pale, shivering hands. "Dad?"

"Leave him alone! If it's me you want, then stop hiding behind the boy. If you're so afraid, then come on. Get it over with!" Anakin took one, menacing step towards his son and the boy began to whimper. He had to steel himself! Whatever this was, he had to protect Luke from it.

"Daddy, please! Dad, it's me, Luke! What's wrong with you?"

He thought about waiting. Thought about calling Obi-wan, seeking out Master Yoda, anything. Putting the boy into a trance and searching out this evil. But as Anakin took another step forward, the rain moving aside like a curtain, revealing his son to him, Anakin saw something else as well. A shimmering light around Luke, a glimmer that hadn't been there before. As he moved closer, Luke's whimpers turned to tears, the light increasing with each quiet, brave sob.

A cold, clammy hand he didn't recognize as his own closed around his son's arm, pulled the child to him. Anakin wanted to wrap his son in the damp folds of his cloak, to hush the tears and tell him it was alright. And maybe he could do that, offer his boy a false sense of security, just before breaking down his defenses and entering the young spirit, seeking out the Darkness writhing within.

Luke may never trust him again, but perhaps, with time, he might forgive his father the sin he was about to commit, the hideous act that might save Luke from the same evil that had laid dormant within Anakin, waiting till it could rise up and destroy entire worlds.

With child in arms, Anakin prepared to reach out with the Force.

"Anakin! Stop!"

There was the crash of lightening and the reverberation of rain in the heavy air, but nothing else moved or made a noise.

Hand still stretched over his son's head, Anakin blinked moisture from his eyes, waiting for his vision to clear. Father and son stared at each other, confusion reflecting in both their eyes. Then, as one, they turned.

The light, once dense and hazy, surrounding Luke in a cloud, now stood beside them, sparks of light firing off from inside. Instinctively, Anakin pulled his son closer to him, but Luke stared, unconcerned, as the blue haze took on human form. Kind blue eyes, long, gray hair and murky robes took form. Where once there should have been a partial smile, the mouth twisted downward into an irritated frown that Anakin felt he had seen far too many times on his own master's face.

In the raging storm, silence somehow finding a place even amidst the growling overhead, the all-too familiar voice of the Jedi Master broke through the mist that seemed to have suddenly and permanently settled over Anakin's mind.

"Don't look so startled, Anakin. If anyone here should be standing with their mouth hanging open, it should be me." Qui-gon, or at least his ghostly form, shifted slightly in the rain, moving closer, his look disapproving. "What exactly did you think you were going to do to Luke here?"

"I. . . ." Words, understandably, failed the other Jedi. Too many things were racing through his mind. His last moments with the man who was like a father to him, the events in his life he knew Qui-gon would never have approved of but must surely know about, his voice calling out to an angered 

Padawan on Tatooine. Above all, the realization that the mist that had surrounded Luke, and most likely guided the boy in both silence and now prophetic mutterings, was Qui-gon Jinn.

When the master continued to look upon expectantly, Anakin searched for words.

"Master Qui-gon? I. . . .that was you?"

When the only answer he received was that warm, trusting smile he remembered from his youth, Anakin looked back to his son, still too startled to completely grasp the situation. Luke, for his part, seemed completely unconcerned. His eyes, wet now only from the storm, looked up to the spirit and smiled. After earning a nod in response, he turned back to his father and smiled, that big, bright smile of a child who loves and trusts their parent for no reason other than they are there.

Slowly, the thing that had wrapped round that tortuous metal ball in his stomach unwrapped itself. The fears released, and Anakin felt all his bones turn to jelly. Where there had been confusion and a driving frustration, now there was only weak relief and he collapsed onto his knees, hands still grasping his son's shoulders.

"Oh, Luke. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, son. I thought. . . I didn't know. I didn't know."

So simple, so easy, his mind told him. So obvious. Didn't know, never guess. Should have known.

A gentle, almost weightless hand settled on his shoulder. "It's alright, Anakin. It wasn't necessary for you to know. Not yet. I'm just sorry you thought it was something else, sorry we frightened you. But you should have trusted in the Force."

Yes, he should have, Anakin realized. Should have known it wouldn't have let anything happened to his boy. To either of his children.

"Does Master Yoda know?"

Qui-gon laughed, and some of the tension in the air dissipated. "No, Yoda doesn't know about my being here. He knows I'm keeping an eye on you and Obi-wan, but he has no idea I've been communicating with Luke."

"And there's nothing else? He's safe?"

"He's safe."

With a sigh enough to shake the sudden hollowness of his bones, Anakin pulled Luke to him and his son wrapped his arms around his father, burying his face in the wet layers of cloak and robes. The elder Skywalker allowed the tender moment before brushing the water out of both their faces and turning the boy back towards the dry interior.

"Inside, Luke. Before you catch cold."

"What about you, Dad?"

"I'll be in, in just moment." His own eyes staring back at him, still clearly concerned his father wasn't alright out here in the rain by himself, the Jedi grinned despite himself. "Go on, son. It's okay."

Reassurance accepted, the echo of wet bare feet on wood and puddles of water were all that were left of Luke as he ducked inside and left specter and former Sith alone together. The rain refused to let up, and there was a moment of awkward repositioning as the two faced each other.

"You should get inside as well. Can't have you getting sick."

Anakin considered arguing, but all his built up tension had been released into the storm and then in his confrontation with his son and this startling discovery. Shaking the water from his hair and removing his soaked boots, knowing Padme would still berate him in the morning for getting the wood and then carpet damp, Anakin stepped inside. The cloak was carelessly tossed aside, and for a moment he regretted no longer having his cup of hot coca. Perhaps, had he been thinking clearer, he would have even heated of for Luke as well.

Turning back to the door, he watched, both elated and wary, as the shimmering figure of his old friend and great Jedi master stepped into the darkened house, and, closing the door, shut out the roar of the storm.

* * *

:D

Caslia

* * *


	41. The Failed Prophecy: Chapter 5

Despite leaving off at such an interesting scene (for me at least, I don't know about the rest of you, as you are still sorta in the dark about just about what's going on at the moment) I haven't been able to find the time to write a post. And, as usual, with a long delay between posts, I get sloppy and distracted and become uninterested in trying to write the next one.

That very well might have occurred here, for what must be the hundredth time, if not for the fact I have a wonderfully sinister moment with Obi-wan planned for sometime in the future. Unfortunately, I have to finish this scene first, so as to fill you and Anakin in on just what in the Force is going on! Because, no, he doesn't know either. Only Qui-gon and I know…and TJM kinda knows, but he might have forgotten by now, as I told him months ago. If you recall, I promised an interesting twist in the typical Anakin redemption story. Well, this is it. :D Enjoy.

P.S. It starts the same, so don't get confused and think this is a repost.

* * *

Chapter Seven:

_The Failed Prophecy_

Four years after _Rebirth of the Light. . ._

* * *

. . . A shot would ring out, and Luke would close his eyes, willing to accept death and, for now, failure, knowing that to do otherwise, to block with his blade, would surely mean the death of the others with him. The death of his own young apprentice. If they were to attempt to fight, and they would if Luke ignited his saber, they would all be killed.

But the death was not be his. The commander clasping the blaster in a sudden death grip would crumple before him. The others would fumble for their weapons, for a target, for the unseen enemy. Where before, defense would have meant death, now Luke would reach for his saber, as those around him, loyal Jedi all, would do the same. The sound of their harmonious hum would drown out the sudden barrage of blaster fire as Han, arriving late in his usual heroic fashion, would race to the rescue of his brother-in-law.

Letting memories of nighttime spectral visits fall away into the past, Luke would join in the battle, defending home and friends from a familiar foe. In the midst of battle, the two would meet, learned Jedi and once-scruffy smuggler, to stand back to back.

"Jeez, kid! Nearly gave me a heart attack! What were you going to do, just let the bastard shoot you?"

"If it was the will of the Force."

"Oh, don't give me that crap!" Han would shout, raising his blaster to take down a trooper charging in their direction. With a flash of his blue saber, Luke would disarm three opponents and good-naturedly roll his eyes. "You and the Jedi are gonna pull through this. Just like you do everything else, and not because of some mystic power 'willing it.'"

"You make your own destiny."

"That's right." They would step apart; allow a round of blaster shots to go flying between them. "Glad you're finally learning something useful!" Han would call before disappearing again into the firefight. Sighing in that amused, long-suffering manner he imaged his uncle adopted after years with the elder Jedi Skywalker, Luke would follow after his childhood friend, grinning all the while.

* * *

Had it been any other night, any of time but this, Luke knew his father would have known immediately that he was there. Anakin didn't have to be a Jedi to sense his son's presence; any parent knows when their child lingers in a shadowed hallway after being sent to bed. Any other night, Anakin would have come around the corner grinning, scoop Luke up in his arms, and carry him back to bed. As he was set down among the soft sheets, Luke would cling to his father, feeling safe in his arms, even as his young mind was barraged by images of things he'd rather not see, rather not know.

But tonight, he remained unseen, unnoticed. And the reason for those images, that knowledge that gave Luke his sight and required his silence, had taken form.

He watched with avid but restrained interest as the old Jedi Master waved the door shut behind him, enclosing them all in the silence of the slumbering house. For Anakin, Qui-gon looked not a day older than when he had last seen him. The familiar features, the long hair and well-sculpted beard that brought to mind Obi-wan; and his master's inherited habit of combing or tugging at it when thoughtful or irritated. And like Obi-wan, the Jedi Master's eyes had grown older, saddened, Anakin knew, through witnessing the fall of his Order. Or, he wondered, was that grief there for other reasons?

"Anakin, you're as white as a sheet. Looks as though you're seeing a ghost."

"Am I not?" He took a deep, steadying breath. Outside, the rain continued to beat against the ground, creating a constant rhythm. Beyond that and his own drumming heartbeat, the house was silent. For all the other beings in the galaxy, he and Qui-gon might suddenly be the only ones awake, so infinite did the silence feel. Anakin took another breath, held it in, blew it out. "You're dead."

The specter chuckled, crossed his incorporeal arms in that typical Jedi manner, raised an eyebrow. "Come now, Anakin. There is no death. . . ."

"There is only the Force. But this. . . is this even possible?"

Qui-gon – Anakin was sure it was him now, no one else could command such a presence, could offer such warmth and without asking receive so much respect – stared at him for a moment. Had he not been in such a shock, Anakin knew he might have crumpled under such a look, but for now all he could do was stare back, wondrous. When Qui-gon finally broke contact, it was with a smile as he moved to take a seat.

Can ghosts sit? Anakin wondered to himself, feeling foolish. Or will they just fall right through? He hadn't a clue.

"I'm here, aren't I?" When he received a nod from the younger Jedi, he shrugged as if that explained everything. "Well then it's possible, isn't it."

Anakin was as sure of that as he was of anything at the moment. He'd been in a lot of situations before where what might have been considered miraculous had happened, and he'd had to adjust to it as to be able to react. There were countless missions where both he and Obi-wan had been dumbfounded, uncertain of what was real and what was constructed reality. There hadn't been time to smooth everything out; they'd been called to action and had to use their instincts to determine the truth. But this, this was nothing like anything Anakin had ever encountered.

Too much was happening for him to be able to process what was really happening here. First the storm, then Luke.

Luke.

At least he was certain of something now. If he didn't sit down then and there, his legs were going to give out underneath him. Anakin crumpled onto the seat across from Qui-gon, as though his burdens had dragged him down. Head in hands, he sealed his eyes shut, hoping everything going on inside him and in the room would just cease.

Qui-gon waited, watching the young man in front of him. There were hints of the young slave boy he had known so many years ago. He saw them, now and again. As the years had passed and a man grew out of the boy, and the man fell into Darkness, those hints, those tiny signs of retained innocence had been a great comfort and a source of pride for the Jedi Master. He couldn't but help love his boys, Anakin and Obi-wan both.

And for all it should troubled him to see Skywalker this way, he couldn't help but chuckle. "I'm not a mind reader, Ani."

Blue eyes peaked out from underneath darkened brows and fingers that had finally stopped trembling.

"If you want me to know what's wrong, you have to tell me. What are you feeling?"

"Terrified."

"I expected as much." He shifted, as though a specter needed to get comfortable. "Surely you must know I'm not here to cause you any harm, Ani."

Harsh laughter escaped from Anakin's lips. The thought of Qui-gon returning from beyond the grave to hurt him shouldn't have seemed as foolish a notion as having a ghost sitting in his living room, asking about his feelings. But, Anakin had to admit to himself, he shouldn't have been at all surprised if the spirits of all the murdered Jedi at some point rose up to dispose of the traitorous Chosen One. He had, after all, killed them all. And that brought him back to his present situation.

"I could have hurt him. I was afraid, so terribly afraid . . . I thought there something there, something lurking inside my son. Like there was in me. Something evil."

"There's nothing evil in you, Ani."

"Isn't there?" He demanded, barely controlled grief in his voice. "Look what I almost did to Luke. I was so desperate to protect him from something that wasn't even there, I was going to. . . " He couldn't say it. Anakin could barely admit it to himself. The raping of a mind, the thrusting of oneself into another's spirit, was too vile to be anything but true evil.

"But you didn't."

"Only because you stopped me." There was gratitude there, even more now than there had been for his rescue from slavery. In the darkness of the room, Anakin fiddled with the hem of his robe, feeling once again the nine-year-old child and Qui-gon the learned master. Was this how it would always be? Qui-gon coming to his rescue?

"You doubt yourself too easily."

Anakin's head jerked up. "I thought you said you couldn't read my mind."

"I can't." Qui-gon chuckled, that familiar smile gracing his weathered features. "I don't have to. Your eyes tell everything I ever needed to know, Anakin. You think I'm here because, once again, you find yourself in need of guidance. You doubt your own instincts even now, after everything."

"I have every reason to doubt them. Haven't they always led me astray?" The younger Jedi stood, turned to the window. Its icy touch against his brow should have been a relief from the furnace of emotions boiling inside. "I have every reason to doubt myself as well." Eyes sealed shut, he let a few tears slip past, not wanting his old mentor to see them but knowing Qui-gon was all too aware of what he was feeling. "I am so sorry, Master."

"Don't be, Ani. Luke handled the situation far better than you are."

"Not for- well, for that too. But for what happened. All of it. I failed you. I _betrayed_ you. You gave me a chance, a chance to be more than just a slave and I used it to destroy everything you loved. The Jedi, the Republic."

"I'm not angry at you for any of that."

"I tried to kill Obi-wan."

"I'm not angry about that either." Qui-gon was standing by his side now. Leaning against the glass as though he couldn't possibly slip through it at will, he watched Anakin with that same understanding, knowing gaze that had drawn him to the Jedi Master all those years ago. Though they both breathed, only one of them made the window fog.

"You should be."

"I didn't come here to judge you, Ani. You'd been through enough of that. From yourself, mostly. You've spent years beating yourself up, struggling to be better than who you think you are. You need to realize, you can't be better."

Terrified, Anakin turned widened eyes on Qui-gon and moved to speak. The specter held up a hand. "You can't, Anakin. Because you are already everything you ever wanted to be. Everything the people around you need. Before your fall, and after. You can't better yourself, you can only change. Every time you try to be more than you are, what happens?"

A part of Anakin knew he was right. Every time he pushed, he only managed to make things worse. Wanting to save lives, he had learned to take them. Wanting to spare his children, he had nearly left them, and would have, if not for Obi-wan. Demanding things of his body it couldn't accomplish, wasn't ready to train for, he had caused the accident. And though it had eventually led to his healing, it could very well have led only to his death. And would have, if not for. . .

Luke.

"You're not honestly going to tell me you're here to remind me I can't be perfect." A smile tugged at his tired lips.

"No," Qui-gon shrugged. "But seeing as I'm here. . ."

"Why _are_ you here? Master, while I'll admit that this has to be possible," the thought that he was standing here talking to himself, imaging the presence of his old master, didn't please Anakin in the least, "I don't understand how. Or why. Or," he admitted tiredly, running a hand through his tousled hair, matted from the rain, "much of anything at the moment."

"I can see that. Should I explain?"

"Please." Qui-gon motioned toward the seats and as one the Jedi moved to one of the sofas. With curiosity, Anakin watched as the elder took a seat and actually made an indent in the cushions. "So, you're really here?"

"We've covered that already. I am here, though you can neither sense my presence with the Force nor touch me." When Anakin continued to wait patiently, a change he hoped Qui-gon had recognized in him, the Jedi Master looked for a way to explain. "When we, all beings, those sensitive to the Force and those who aren't, become a part of the Force, over time we loose our conscious selves and become a part of the greater whole. We also loose contact with the physical world. We're a part of a different plane of existence. Because it was necessary, and the will of the Force, I retained my conscious self, and have managed to appear to Yoda occasionally in the past."

"And now me." Anakin nodded in understanding.

"And now you."

"Can Luke see you?"

"No, with Luke. . . things are different. The boy and I have a connection. We seem to be somewhat drawn to one another, for whatever reason the Force has decided upon."

Without meaning to, Anakin chuckled. He immediately tried to hide his smile when Qui-gon raised a brow, then waited for the younger Jedi to explain himself. Self-consciously, Anakin coughed and looked away. "Luke is very much like you."

"Oh?" Was the impartial response.

"He's very in tune with the living Force, with the present. He can be reckless, but when it really matters, he gives something his utmost attention and considers it from every direction. He's modest, generous, compassionate. . . " Anakin trailed off, embarrassed at having said so much even as he glowed with pride for his son. Luke was very much like Qui-gon Jinn, and for that, Anakin was grateful.

The aforementioned Jedi smiled but shook his head. "I had little to do with how the boy is. That's all you and Padme. And a little of Obi-wan in there, to keep him from getting into trouble constantly." The twinkle in Qui-gon's eyes brought out Anakin's own smile. He knew his old master wasn't saying any of this to be kind. He really believed the goodness in his son, and daughter, came from their parents. "I've done what I can to keep the children safe, blocking their presence from Palpatine and his spies. Luke is so perceptive, however, that I'm afraid that as much as I have anchored myself to him so as to keep an eye on you, so too has he drawn from me things too harsh for a child his age."

Heart suddenly back in his throat, Anakin swallowed nervously. "What sort of things?"

"Images. Knowledge. Things partially drawn from my life and from the Force around him. He knows a lot more than you think, Anakin. Luke understands war and what it will require of you. He has seen, though perhaps not fully understood, other planets, other cultures. Other times, since some of what he knows is taken from my memories. I'm afraid Luke has grown up a lot faster than was necessary. For all that I tried to shield him from, in my attempt to keep close to you, I may have only troubled him further."

Anakin pondered this for a moment. His fear had receded almost immediately. While it was true there were things he was sure Luke knew of now he would rather have his son remain ignorant of for many years to come, it was not as bad as he would have thought. It would also explain many of Luke's stranger utterances, his grasp of abstract concepts long before Leia. If what Qui-gon said was true, it would also explain Luke's long silence. If he had been so strongly connected to the Living Force, his 

full attention would have been dedicated to the wave of information that was readily available and made easier to understand.

It meant his son was far too mature, far too knowledgeable for his age. But at the same time, it meant he would be far more able to protect himself, and Leia, if and when it came to that.

"Best to take the good with the bad and be grateful." Qui-gon, not having entirely expected but pleased by this response nodded. "What I want to know is, why have you been watching me so closely?"

"I can't keep an eye on the two of you? You and Obi-wan can't step outside without running head first into some sort of mischief." The comment was made in good humor, but he could see Anakin was far from amused. "What's wrong?"

"You said the Force willed you not to fully become one with it. It was so you could watch me. To stop me from ever turning back. To make sure I never again risked the future of the Jedi and the rest of the galaxy."

The twinkle was gone from the elder Jedi's eyes. "Is that what you think?"

Anakin shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. It was what he thought. Even as he appreciated Qui-gon's presence, knowing he had been there all along, if Anakin had only been willing to listen, at the same time he resented it. It meant that even with guidance, he had failed. Even with his old mentor, the man he looked to as a father standing just over his shoulder, he had managed to slip so far as he had. The fact that Qui-gon remained, even after Anakin's redemption, meant Skywalker could still not be trusted.

And if the Force doubted him so much, how could Anakin not continue to doubt himself?

"What ever you're thinking, Anakin, it's not like that."

"Isn't it? Isn't it just like it's always been? The Council knew I couldn't be trusted and they were right. It took years for Obi-wan and I to fully trust one another, for our bond to become as strong as it did. All this time, I've been learning to trust myself again. And now you tell me the Force has sent a watchdog to keep an eye on me." He hadn't meant for the bitterness to creep into his voice, or to offend Qui-gon by suggesting what he had. But there it was; what he felt.

The specter sitting next to him shifted and the cushions responded to the movement, even though there was no weight to alter their shape. A hand, nearly translucent and haloed in a soft blue light, came to rest on his arm. Though he couldn't feel it, just knowing it was there made it seem real. "Ani."

Anakin glared at his boots, soggy and still dripping water off the laces onto the carpet. They left dark puddles and he realized only belatedly he was shivering somewhat.

"Look at me, Ani."

When Anakin at last forced himself to look up, feeling angry and ashamed, feeling exhausted from both but still holding on because he didn't know what else to do, Qui-gon sighed.

"That's not why I'm here. If that's what the Force had asked of me, I would never have agreed." When Skywalker's eyes widened in surprise, Qui-gon only smiled gently. "I care about you, Anakin. I wouldn't ever treat you as though you were a threat to be kept collared and under watch. I know what others have said, what they've believed. Some have changed their minds, and others haven't. What matters is, you've proved that when there are hard choices to be made, when allowed to make up 

your own mind, you make the right decision. You don't need me, or Obi-wan, or Yoda or anyone else treating you like a child. You're a grown man with a good heart, and I believe in you."

Turning his head away to hide his sniffling, Anakin asked, "Then why are you here?"

The tension now mostly settled, Qui-gon leaned back in his seat and eyed his young companion. He hadn't meant to tell him, at least, not tell him everything. It had been expected Anakin would find out on his own. That events would lead to this discovery and he and Obi-wan would act accordingly.

But things, as it had proven with Luke, did not always go as planned.

"Things have changed, Anakin."

"Changed?"

"Things. . . This is not the way things were meant to be."

The comment, so easily spoken with only a slight hesitation in Qui-gon's voice to suggest he knew the significance of what he said, sent shivers up and down Anakin's spine. His entire body went tense and with startled eyes, he looked to the old master. Qui-gon continued to casually recline on the couch. Wetting his lips, finding his mouth had gone completely dry and it did no good, Anakin took a deep breath. "Go on," was all he could manage in a voice that rasped against his ears.

"You're redemption came as quite a shock, Anakin." Realizing the other was about to protest, Qui-gon leaned forward and hasted to add, "Not that there weren't those of us, the Jedi who had yet to fully merge with the Force, that didn't believe you could turn back. In fact, there were a number of Jedi, myself included, who believed in it whole-heartedly, that argued your case with Master Yoda before he went into hiding. We believed you would return and fulfill your destiny as the Chosen One."

"What we didn't believe was that it would happen so soon after your turning. We were sure it would take time, maybe even to the point one of your children, most likely Luke but maybe Leia as well, would have to train as a Jedi and then confront you with your past."

"You were going to turn my children against me!"

The very thought was so far from believable Anakin had trouble grasping it. No, not trouble; he simply refused to even believe that could ever happen. Would Obi-wan have taken his children and taught them to be Jedi? To want to destroy the Sith? To destroy _him_?

Even as he tried to image it, prepared to quell the fury he was sure would rise, Anakin found himself agreeing with the notion. As much as it appalled him, it only made sense his children, so powerful in the Force, would have to be trained. For their own protect and for the future of the Jedi.

And eventually that training, and the conflict in the galaxy, would have brought them all together again. Anakin shuddered to think what he might have put his children through if that had been the case. Learning their father was a Sith, and that they must defeat him to save the galaxy, would have been a greater burden his children ever should have to bear.

"I don't honestly know what would have happened," Qui-gon admitted, clearly looking no more pleased with the situation than Anakin himself did. "I'm afraid that if you really wanted to know, you'd have to ask Luke."

"Luke? Oh, Force, you don't mean. . . !"

If his connection with the Force, strengthened by Qui-gon's presence from such a young age, had allowed Luke to envelope himself so completely in it, he might very well have been able to see the future. And not only the future, but perhaps, if there had been as great a shift in the Force as this all suggested, then Luke knew what might have happened as well.

Anakin felt suddenly very ill. His son. His innocent, trusting, beautiful son. What, exactly, had he seen his father do? Both in the past and the future that would now never come, what did the boy have to experience? And how could he ever agree to come near Anakin now that he knew?

Even as he asked these questions, Anakin remembered his son's devotion to him, the love in his eyes as they stood out in the rain, even after Anakin had so mindlessly threatened him. Luke had spoken his first words only when his father's life was in danger. He clung to Anakin each night as he tucked him in.

He could only hope that somewhere in that distant, fading future in which he had remained a Sith and Luke was raised a Jedi, they had found some moment of reconciliation. That he had gotten a chance, just one chance, to let his son and daughter know he loved them. Perhaps, even, the belief Qui-gon professed in his young charge had proved true; maybe Anakin had pulled himself out of the Darkness and reclaimed his soul, even if it was far too late. Maybe he and his children, full grown and without these passing days of childhood they now shared, had earned the chance to be a family after all.

He would never known. As much as he longed to know, Anakin knew he could never ask Luke. If he learned he had ever, in any manner, caused his children harm. . . He knew he was a coward not to ask, but his fear was far too strong to conquer this time.

"Anakin?"

The Jedi looked up, realizing he had been gone longer than he had thought, his thoughts dragging him off to unrealized fears and away from the comfort of his cold, quiet living room. Qui-gon waited patiently until Anakin turned his eyes once again to his, then smiled.

"It's alright now. Whatever might have happened, it didn't. And never will."

"Because of the Force?"

"That's right. For reasons I don't quite understand, and never really expect to either, it chose to give you a chance to redeem yourself sooner than expected."

"The voices," Dawning realization spread across Anakin's face and brought wonder, and an old curiosity, to his eyes. It had been so long since he had heard them he had all but forgotten their existence. "I…I heard voices. While I was still Palpatine's apprentice. And they led me here. To Thanatina, and this house. Padme was giving birth and Obi-wan was there with her. I remember thinking my finding them surely had to be a gift of the Force, but I had not thought it to be so. . . "

"Intentional?" Qui-gon smiled. "It seems it was. The Force took a serious gambit with you, Anakin." And here the elder Jedi's expression darkened, with an anger that Anakin had never seen on his face. It was disconcerting, to say the least. "I cannot help but be disgusted with how the Force has used you and your family, Anakin. It intended all along for you to fall, so that the Jedi might be eradicated, and then for you to destroy the Sith following your redemption, so that both sides of the Force would be balanced out. There was no choice for you, either way. Your life was predestined."

"That doesn't mean I'm not to blame for my actions, or my choices, Qui-gon. Even if that is how the Prophecy of the Chosen One was meant to be fulfilled, I still could have made better choices. Lives could have been spared. Yours, other Jedi, civilians and troops alike that died in a war that was constructed by Palpatine and orders I carried out."

"Perhaps." Nodding thoughtfully, Qui-gon suddenly smiled and his hand came to rest, ever so lightly, upon Anakin's shoulders. "I can see you truly have grown up, Ani. You are a great Jedi. I am very proud."

Feeling the blood rush to his face, Anakin grinned but looked away, feeling his eyes becoming moist.

"Thank you, Master. You have no idea how much that means to me to hear you say that."

"I think I do. I can remember when Master Yoda once said it to me."

A gentle, companionable silence settled over the darkened room. For a few moments, Anakin only stared at the rain, still falling in great sheets against the window panes. Above, lightening flashed, bright and sudden, before leaving them in shadows once again. The little house stood with a calm determination against the storm and refused to be the least bit flustered by its strength.

With both children sent off to bed, and Padme tucked snuggly between the covers, unaware of his absence, all was serene. The only unease was in lacking Obi-wan's steady presence, fast asleep in one of the three bedrooms. Anakin wished greatly, at that moment more than he had the entire time since their parting, that Kenobi was here with him now. How it would bring joy to Obi-wan's heart to see his old master sitting here.

And how insane Padme might think them, if she wandered in, in search of her missing protectors, to find both husband and dearest friend having a conversation with what might appear to her to be only empty air.

"So that's it then," he finally asked, breaking the silence that had descended, "The reason for the prophecy. The destiny of the Chosen One. Your presence, Luke's silence. All of it."

"Not quite."

Anakin looked to Qui-gon in only mild surprise. He quirked an eyebrow as if to say, of course it couldn't be that easy, please continue.

"You may find it interesting to learn that the prophecy has, in a sense, failed."

Brows immediately drawing together, Skywalker searched for some comment to make, some demand to utter. And found himself speechless.

The prophecy? Of the Chosen One?

Failed?

"Master?" he finally stammered.

"I realize it comes as something of a shock," Qui-gon nodded, looking completely unconcerned with what Anakin would have imagined the end of the Jedi. The end of the galaxy, as he understood it. How could this be happening? When; why wasn't he informed? Shouldn't the Force send out memos on these sorts of things? Dear Chosen One, we have decided your destiny is no longer required. Thank you for your dedicated and sorry for any inconveniences. May the Force be with you.

"Something of a _shock_!"

"Anakin, you have to understand. When the Force intervened the first time, allowing you to redeem yourself earlier than planned, everything changed. Your destiny was no longer so clearly defined. And 

this didn't just affect your life, it affected everyone around you, everyone you came into contact with. The children, Padme, Obi-wan, the Rebel Alliance, the entire fate of the Empire. This was never just about you. While you certainly play a key part, your destiny was greater than you as an individual. More than your life changed. _Everything_ changed."

"So I'm no longer the Chosen One?"

"Not entirely."

"I'm. . . I'm very confused right now."

"Understandable."

Swiftly Anakin rose to his feet and began to pace. He was still, even after years in the suit, accustomed to action. And when his thoughts became too jumbled, his brain so rattled that sitting still only added to the tension, movement was a must. Qui-gon continued to sit and watch his friend walk back and forth across the living room.

"But. . . but if I'm not the Chosen One. . . my powers . . .my connection with the Force . . ."

"Is still as strong as it always was," Qui-gon explained patiently. "Nothing about you has changed, Anakin. The changes the Force made to allow you to find your family has simply led to other changes."

"Caused by my choices?"

"Correct. And some of your actions."

"Actions?"

"You've influenced others to fight, some before it was their time. Beings who might have taken years to join the Rebellion, or side with the Empire, have taken a stand. Jedi that might have remained in hiding have come forward to reclaim their rights as citizens. And certain individuals, once impartial, have taken up arms for a cause in which they never believed in, and would never have, if not for you."

"Certain individuals." Anakin stopped pacing, turned to stare at the incorporeal Jedi Master. There was something about the way that had been said, something about the way the Force had reacted to it, that told Anakin this was important. Looking into Qui-gon's eyes, Anakin could see it as well. "Who? What do you mean?"

"You've felt it. The emptiness present in the Force, the lack of something that was there before, so strong and oppressive. As more and more Jedi have returned, began responding to the Force, you've felt other influences fade away."

"The Emperor's," Anakin nodded. "I've been unable to feel him since I went into surgery. I had thought maybe it was because I had removed the physical parts of me that tied me to him and that time. I can no longer sense him. And I'll admit, it worries me. If I cannot sense my old master, how will I know when he's near? When there's danger?"

Qui-gon stared intently at his charge, the young man who was as much a son to him as Obi-wan. Anakin hadn't been meant to find out this way, not originally. But now, it seemed only best he know so as to be able to take the next necessary step.

"Anakin, the Emperor is dead."

"Dead?" Dead? Even aloud, even saying it and giving breath to the idea, it didn't help to make any of it sink in. The Emperor. Palpatine, Darth Sidious. His Sith master. His false friend and confidant. The man who had conspired to turn Anakin Skywalker to the Darkside, to destroy his family, to ruin the Jedi once and for all. The man who had killed millions just to gain power and create an Empire from the ashes of what had once been the greatest galactic power devoted to peace.

He was dead.

Just like that.

"How. . . how is that possible? I mean. . . he was a Sith. It would have taken. . . it would have taken Jedi! Many, many powerful Jedi! I don't understand. Did. . . did Yoda and the others confront him? Without us? Without me?" It just didn't seem possible. It couldn't possibly be true; yet it was. It was true. The Force confirmed it. It was why he had been unable to sense the Emperor. Why he had undergone the seizure in surgery that had taken both Brie and Obi-wan to save him.

"No, Yoda had nothing to do with it. He is not powerful enough to defeat Palpatine, not alone or with help from the remaining Jedi. Sidious was just too powerful."

"Then. . . then _how_!" Force, how was it even possible?

"Sometime," Qui-gon said, that little smile play around his lips that Anakin had seen continuously as a child, "others can surprise you."

"Others?" Coming from anyone other than Qui-gon, Anakin might not have believed it. "You mean. . . someone who was _not_ Force sensitive?" He wanted to say it was impossible, improbable, maybe even unfair. He wanted to demand answers and reasons and a play-by-play of what he could only image as the fiercest and strangest battle ever to take place in the history of Jedi and Sith alike. Instead, he simply sat and tried to breath.

"Blink, Ani. You look like a fish."

Anakin closed his eyes, opened them again. Closed, opened. Trying to bring reality back into focus. Trying to make sense of all this.

"Who, Qui-gon?" He finally managed, "Who could have done this?"

"I believe you knew him," The elder Jedi chuckled. There was something about him that reminded Anakin of when he had continued to insist to a younger Obi-wan Kenobi that the Gungan Jar Jar Binks would very well prove invaluable. That little slave boys weren't a waste of effort and insolent teenage queens had to be treated not only with respect but a good dose of parental amusement as well. "Due to circumstances manipulated by Palpatine in an attempt to destroy Jedi and create a clone army, the boy witnessed his father's death. He became a bounty hunter by trade. It would seem that after an encounter with you some years ago, the boy, now a young man, did some soul-searching of his own. I wouldn't necessarily call his an act of redemption; he had nothing that required forgiveness on his part. But in the end, he did do the right thing."

"Boba Fett!" The words burst from Anakin's mouth without his being able to control him. Master Jinn immediately hushed him, but Anakin continued to sputter, not caring if he woke the household, the whole planet for all he cared. "_Boba Fett_! Qui-gon, are you sure?"

"Quite certain, yes."

"But – but, _how_? I mean, I – it's just not – I. . ." Unable to continue, Anakin fell into a stunned silence, slumped against the couch.

Could it be possible? Could it have been so simple, so easily overlooked? Could the Sith Emperor be dead at the hands of a bounty hunter? A clone raised as a man's son? If it was, it was quite beyond Anakin.

That would explain it. It would explain his dreams. The scene in which fire enveloped everything, _Anakin could just make out the Emperor's throne room, Coruscate shining through the octagonal window behind the throne. Two figures stood, blocking the light. One, a bent old crone of a man that Anakin recognized as the Emperor, the other vaguely familiar. He radiated confidence, not a hint of fear. Beneath the mask, he smiled smugly, then fire engulfed them all and glass shattered on the pavement thousands of feet below,_ in which someone other than Obi-wan saved him from the fiery death that was deserving of his sins, _when he looked up, it wasn't Obi-wan who was holding his hand. A dark-haired little boy, no older than twelve, smirked, hand outstretched even as his liquid chocolate eyes glittered with bitterness. Jaded, compared to the innocent slave boy who stared back at him in wonder and confusion_, and how everything . . ._The galaxy tilted on its axis_. . . just sort of . . . _righted itself. . . _changed.

_And yet, despite everything, the gratitude he knew he should feel, the relief; Anakin found him drowning in a blackness more chilling than the Darkness tugging at the edges of his vision_. . .

Qui-gon waited, letting the idea sink in before continuing. "Anakin?"

"Yes, Master?" Flat, still stunned, but he could hear the fear there.

"What is it, Anakin? Something's wrong."

Eye usually bright, either in anger or laughter, even in sadness, turned to him and Qui-gon could see the terror and the confusion there, the baffled hurt. He looked lost, as though left adrift on some strange planet, without friends or mission or destination.

"Master. . . I am – this is wonderful. Wonderful that the Emperor is dead, that it took so few lives, to destroy him. And I shall always, always be grateful to Fett for what he's done. I'll never forget what might have happened had the Force not done as it has."

"But? What is it, Ani?"

Anakin drew in a deep, shuddering breath that had Qui-gon wishing he could take the man in his arms as he had the boy, could hold him close and chase away whatever nightmarish vision or thoughts now plagued him. All he could do was offer a warm, if concerned smile and wait to discover the source of this desolation that now radiated from his boy.

"Master Qui-gon, what am I to do now?" When the elder Jedi's eyebrows shot up in surprise, Anakin choked down his wail of despair. Didn't he understand? "Master, the prophecy. . . the Prophecy of the Chosen One. . . as much as I hated it, it was who I was. It was what I was destined for. I was to bring balance. Redeemed, I was meant to battle the Emperor. Destroy the Darkness. It is what Obi-wan and I have trained for. What I have spent years expecting. Fearing. Knowing it was just on the horizon. That one day, I would be called to do battle, with Palpatine, with my past. And now. . ."

What was he to do? What was he, without this? Without this destiny, this purpose? Did he even have one any longer? What would he tell Obi-wan, when he said their training had been unnecessary, the demons they had both conquered had been nothing but their imagination and overactive fears?

The Hero With No Fear, the Chosen One, the redeemed Sith Lord, the Jedi Anakin Skywalker, was without purpose.

"And now, my young friend," Qui-gon's voice reached him across the chasm of fears, of shadows in which he wandered, lost and feeling very much alone. He turned hopeful and yet wary eyes on his first mentor, waiting for deliverance. The old master smiled, in that kind way that had told a homeless child he belonged. "Now, Ani, you make your own destiny."

"My own destiny?"

"Anakin," Qui-gon chuckled, as he seemed apt to do when dealing with this young man, "you are no longer bound to a single destiny. You are no less than you were before. The prophecy did not make you the man you are. As you have said, you are accountable for your actions and choices, both bad and good. Do not think you are without purpose."

"But – "

"The Jedi, Anakin. You have the Jedi to aid, your children to raise. You have a family, and friends among the rebels. You still have a cause for which to fight, a just one at which you will not fail. The Emperor may be gone, but the Empire still exists."

Yes, Anakin realized, his fears passing, the paralyzing desperation in which he was rendered helpless slowly melting into a puddle at his feet. The Empire still existed. And while it was no longer as malevolent without Sidious dealing out the cards, there were those now in power who were no less corrupt, no more willing to help those in need, the innocent and the suffering. Justice was still not being served.

The people of the galaxy still needed their heroes.

They still needed the Jedi.

Whether they knew it or not, Anakin decided. And that was his calling now. To rebuild the Jedi, side by side with Obi-wan. To oppose the Empire with Padme and those like her who had chosen aggressive negotiations when no other course was left open to them.

And to raise his children, a blessing Anakin only now was realizing was more than just his means of salvation, but perhaps something that might never have happened if not for the grace of the Force.

"I can make my own destiny."

The words sounded strong, sounded right and Anakin grinned, life and Light filling up inside of him. "I can make my own destiny." He was expecting an affirmative from Qui-gon, to hear the familiar voice filled with warmth agree with such a destiny-changing, life-sustaining claim.

Receiving only silence, Anakin turned to find Qui-gon Jinn gone.

The couch was silent and cold beside him. There was no sign of his old mentor, no glimmer of a spectral presence. The Force, when he reached out, searching, gave nothing away and Anakin was forced to accept he was alone.

"Dad?"

Well, almost.

Turning, Anakin found Luke standing at the other end of the couch. Hair still damp and matted down, eyes unclouded from sleep, he could tell his son had never left the room. Had probably overheard everything. And though Anakin knew he should be concerned about what Luke had heard and seen, 

should be stern and reprimand him for not having gone to bed when told, he was instead infinitely grateful.

If he ever came to doubt what had happened tonight, what he had seen and heard, he would have Luke. His son's word. In all likelihood, Luke had known all of this long before Anakin.

"Luke, do you know who that was?"

The boy shook his head yes. "Sometimes, I talk to him. In my head. He lets me call him Grandpa Jinn. He's really nice. And he helps me tell stories to Leia at night, when she can't go to sleep."

So, Leia knew about this as well, at least part of it. That would make everything easier. Now all Anakin had to do was explain everything to Padme and Obi-wan. And likely Master Yoda and, at least some of it, to the Rebel council as well.

With an ease that said how casually Luke took the events of the evening, his son crawled up into Anakin's arms and snuggled in. Both of them were damp, shivering from their earlier misadventure outside. And as much as Anakin knew he should carry his son into the fresher and dry him off, then slip them both into dry clothing and crawl into bed, he only wanted to hold his son.

He wondered if Qui-gon had wanted to reached out and pull him close. If he had tried to do the same with Obi-wan when he had faced the knowledge he had lost his apprentice and friend, his brother, to Darkness. Somehow, Qui-gon had always been watching out for them, his warm presence never far away.

I'll make you proud of me, he sent into the Force, knowing the old master would hear it. I promise.

And the message that came back, not quite so defined as words but just as clear was, you already have.

* * *

gasp, gasp Eighteen pages! gasp, gasp In one sitting! I just can't believe I got this scene written. I can't believe I got a whole post ready in one day.

I want a _lot_ of replies for this one. This is one of those major climatic posts and you're not going to get many more. We're coming to the ending, folks.

Caslia


	42. The Failed Propechy: Chapter 6

So, here it is. Despite all the other things I have to be doing…a post. Can you believe it? I know I can't. (I know TJM can't either, he's always teasing me about how long it takes these days to get any post up.) For those of you who might be interested in what's going on in my life that keeps me so busy, I'm going to update my bio, and you can check it out to see what ol' Caslia has driving her loco.

Okay, we're getting close to the end now, so I need the votes to start coming in on whether people want this to be slash or not. Can't make the decision on my own, now can… oh wait…sorry, wrong fic. grins

Nevermind. faceinnocent

Final Note: There are only one or two more posts in The Failed Prophecy. I know I said this would be the last chapter…but things inever/i turn out the way you plan. That's something I'm sure you're all well aware of. So, without further delay…

* * *

Chapter Seven:

_The Failed Prophecy_

Four years after _Rebirth of the Light. . ._

* * *

There were days when he longed for the quiet of the Jedi Temple, the serene peace that could be found with the least effort. It waited around every corner, in gardens and libraries, places long lost. Among the bustling hum that _Home One_ had become in the past months, there were few refuges where even a general hush could be found. Every hanger, every room, every surrounding village, was filled with the activities of people preparing for war.

And yet, among the mass pandemonium, Obi-wan felt incredibly alone.

It was not a feeling he was used to, not after having spent the least four. . . no, almost five years now, with the Skywalker family. His family. There had always been someone close at hand: Anakin, Padme, one of the twins in need of something or simply wanting to spend time with their uncle. Even when they had been occupied, there had been the droids. It seemed that after so many years spent as a member of a close-knit group, and before that an eternal half of the Kenobi-Skywalker team, Obi-wan had become somewhat unused to being alone.

He wasn't without responsibility. The constant influx of new rebels, the demands of the Council, and his quest to pave the way for the returning Jedi Order left him with plenty of things to occupy his time.

There just wasn't anyone to share it with.

"Buck up, Kenobi. There are worse things than a diplomatic mission to Ohna." Jan smirked through the planetary holo at the General. "And if you don't believe me, I could remind you of a few. Including staying here and eating a month's worth of station rations."

Obi-wan managed a weak grin. "I have to admit, I have become concerned. That unidentifiable white mush they serve daily has actually become appealing as far as seconds are concerned. Do you think I might have developed a taste for Tantar intestines?"

"_If _that's what they're serving us."

When this received nothing more than a shallow nod in response, Solik frowned and set down the datapad she had been going over and made her way around the holo table. The briefing room in which they had held the discussion concerning the pending trip to Ohna was now completely empty save for 

the two of them. Through the last couple of months, Jan had discovered Obi-wan was more likely to speak openly with her when they were alone. A quiet trust had grown between them, partly to do with their constant, almost parental concern over the now absent Skywalker, and partially out of lack of any others to turn to. His drool banter had amused her, but this hushed and easy dismissal had her feeling concerned for this particular Jedi as well.

"General?"

"Hmm?"

He didn't look up from the datapads that described the economic relations Ohna had with nearby planets. A clear sign he was trying to distract himself. "You want to talk about it, or should I just leave you and the pad alone to discuss the merits of galatically trading Diremet skins?"

Gray eyes glanced up, confused, then melted into pools of liquid fatigue, in which Jan could see the real Obi-wan Kenobi. Looking away, he shuffled through the other pads. "It's nothing. I'm just a little tired."

"As are we all." She waited.

Kenobi sighed, glanced around the empty conference room. The holo planet Ohna still hung, glowing soft shades of amber, washing warmth across his worn face. He wasn't half as tired as he had been when planning the battles of the Clone Wars. This wasn't war…yet. This was negotiations with still unaligned planets. There was little doubt he could go on for days, if need be.

"That's just a small part of it."

"I know." She laid a comforting hand on his. "What's really wrong?"

Unconsciously, Obi-wan drew his hand away from hers. "This mission."

Jan's brows drew together and her body tensed, suddenly alert, ready for action like the warrior she was. "Something about the mission? A feeling? Is the Force warning you something is going to go wrong?"

"No!" Softer the second time, "No. No, nothing is wrong with the mission. At least, nothing I can sense. No, it's just . . . this mission, and others like it, the ones that will come after, as we both _know_ they will . . . it means leaving Home One. Leaving Thanatia."

His companion sighed, the tension leaking out of her in a softly hissing breath. She gave him a good-natured, understanding smile. "Why don't you just say it, Kenobi? These missions mean leaving Anakin."

"Yes, that's true. I don't like being so far away from him." With a press of a button, the holo planet disappeared. The holo chip ejected out of the projector and Obi-wan reattached it to the planet's portfolio. With a deftness that spoke of years as the organized Negotiator, Obi-wan arranged and stacked the pads before him with only half a mind to his task. "Being apart from him for so long, even now . . . concerns me."

"That's unfair of you."

The harshness of the comment made him look up. Solik placed her hands on still slender hips and narrowed her eyes at him. "General, Skywalker isn't an apprentice in need of watching over. Nor is he still the stumbling and confused former Sith Lord who first walked these halls. He can look after himself. Constantly having you around probably makes him feel like he can't be trusted."

She had meant to be firm, though not hurtful, and Jan meant what she said. But there was a coldness that suddenly rolled off the Jedi Master, from his look right down to his change in posture. Ever formal and polite, Obi-wan simply picked up his materials and stared at her.

"You'll excuse me if I don't agree with you on my presence in Anakin's life being 'unfair', Commander. He and I have been a team since the day he was given to me for training. That was some seventeen, almost eighteen years ago now. We fight as a team, work as a team. Even now, when he has a family to care for and I a duty, we are not so far away a single call would not bring one of us to the other's side. Sometimes, it is hard to see where he ends and I begin."

He shifted the pads in his arms, looking somewhat embarrassed by his words, but determined to continue.

"If I were to be truly honest with you, I do not stay to 'watch over him.' I agree; Anakin is more than capable of taking care of himself. He could probably win this whole damned war by himself if he wanted, with one hand tied behind his back. It's not for his sake I stay. It's for mine. That family is ingrained into my very soul. They are the _only_ reason I have any belief we have a hope for the future of this Force-cursed galaxy. Without them, I might very well be lost."

Jan stared, then lowered her arms. There was a momentary awkwardness between them, then she nodded and tried on a smile.

"Okay, Kenobi. So long as it's like that, then."

"It's like that."

She reached out a hand toward the pads in his arms, an apologetic gesture. Struggling only briefly, Obi-wan managed to pass her half of his stack without dropping any. Together, they made their way from the conference room out into the corridor, where aides rushed past them, on the way to a million and one errands to be accomplished by the end of the day.

Under the bramble of voices, Jan managed to lean in and speak in the General's ear. "If I had known you were quite so . . . if I had known you were in want of companionship, I would have offered more nights of Sabacc."

Knowing she was attempting to smooth over the last few minutes, and grateful she had not said 'lonely', Obi-wan grinned. "The Alliance doesn't pay me enough that I can risk loosing my credits to you on a regular basis, Commander."

"General! General Kenobi."

With a suffering sigh that said the Force was clearly singling him out to torment, Obi-wan stopped in his tracks in the crowded hallway and waited for the aide to reach him. Could he _never_ catch a break? He had just finished a briefing, he had an hour before a meeting with the Council, then he would have to call Anakin and let him know he would be leaving in less than a week.

The Twi'lik finally made it through, looking elated, and Obi-wan wouldn't help having the self-indulgently spiteful thought of wondering what spice the alien might be on.

"Yes? What is it?"

"General! Master Kenobi! The Jedi! They've arrived! A whole fleet of them! They're in hanger fourteen right now, and Master Yoda is asking for you!"

The aide was practically jitterbugging right there in the corridor, his brain tails flailing, and Obi-wan had the sudden, impulsive desire to join him. The Jedi! The Jedi had arrived!

"Here!" He practically thrust his stack of datapads into Solik's arms. Muttering a word of thanks and apologizes in her direction, Obi-wan took off down the hallway, dodging people as he went, making as much speed as he possibly could. Not two steps behind him, the aide was twittering about all the ships and how many had unboarded and how wonderful all this was. Everyone they passed began to buzz about the news.

Jedi!

Could it be? After so long, had other Jedi finally arrived? Had others possibly survived the attack on the Temple? Was there yet hope?

Obi-wan ignored it all and pressed forward, till he reached the hanger and was greeted with the welcome sight of the small, wrinkled figure of one of the greatest Jedi he had ever known. There were other Jedi all around, he could feel them, buzzing at the back of his mind like all the voices in the hallway. But he could only focus on the little Master before him, and upon slowing his pace, knelt before him.

"Master Yoda."

Yoda smiled, a warmer smile then Obi-wan had seen when last they had met a few years ago on Naboo, and also wearier than he remembered.

"Obi-wan. Good to see you, it is. Long has it been. Brought other Jedi, I have. Trained some are, trained some are not. But best, I thought, to bring them here. Complete their training, they will, among those to whom they will dedicate their lives."

"Master," Obi-wan breathed, feeling the loneliness he had felt, partially from Anakin's absence but also another, one that had been with him for far longer, vanish with the presence of so many Jedi together again. "The Alliance welcomes you with open arms. You have no idea how wonderful it is to have Jedi, now, when we have need of them more than ever."

The Master's little brow wrinkled. "Trouble, you have? See, I do not, preparations for war."

"Not war, Master. Not yet." What a relief it was to say that, at least to some extent.

The familiar cane rapped against the flooring of the hanger. "Good to hear this is. Good to hear. Then time we have, to talk. Much there must be, that has taken place in my absence. Much about young Skywalker and yourself, you have to tell. Want to hear all, I do."

A few quick requests of the aide and Obi-wan set up lodging for the Jedi within the confines of _Home One_. He greeted each as thought they were all childhood friends, even those he had hardly seen at the Temple throughout the years. They were all Jedi, after all, all survivors of a terrible ordeal and had each suffered great losses. Old friends were among them, and they sought him out, sharing hugs and not a few tears, laughing with an abandonment that told Obi-wan he was not the only Jedi to have grown beyond the Code's restrictions since the disassembly of the Order.

And from out of the ships, the fighters, and the corridors, came Rebels and refugees alike. They came with questions and blankets, bowls of food, offers to sew torn cloaks and stories of life since the fall of the Republic. In a manner never before experienced, Jedi became acquainted with the people they had come to protect.

Amidst the conversation and crowding, Obi-wan and Yoda managed to make their way to the _Falcon_, the ship owned by the young pilot who had offered to be Kenobi's escort to Ohna. In her small but comfortable lounge, Obi-wan brought the little Jedi Master up to speed on just what he and Anakin had been up to these past few years. Looking back, it was quite a story.

When he was finished, Yoda's face seemed to beg the question whether or not Obi-wan was being entirely serious.

"True, all this is?" Obi-wan nodded. "Healed, Skywalker is?" Yoda looked down at the ground and tapped his gimmer stick, pondering. "A true blessing of the Force, this is."

"Partially, yes, I suppose it is. But it is also the work of Shelia Brie and her wonderful gift for healing. She has the potential to be a Jedi Healer, with proper training. And it was Anakin's doing as well. Without his finally having come to accept and forgive his actions, he might never have been able to come as far as he has."

"And far, it is. Expect this, I did not. Much has happened. Something else, as well, but know what it is, I do not. Sense a change, I do." Obi-wan waited patiently, unaware of what Yoda might mean. "Contact Anakin, you must. Speak with him, I will."

There was a pause, and in it, Kenobi felt his doubts rise to the surface. Tugging at the back of his mind were past experiences between the redeemed Jedi and the old Master, since Anakin's return. Attempts at forcing . . . certain actions, that now made him hesitant. Rising from his seat beside the Sabacc table, Obi-wan started to pace, stopped, then changed his mind and crossed the room in short strides.

Yoda watched him, impassive. "Problem, there is, Obi-wan?"

"It's just…I would very much like to be reunited with Anakin, Master. It has been some time since I have seen him. However, should Anakin come to _Home One_, I know he will want to go on the mission to Ohna with me. And one mission won't be enough. He will feel it's his duty to go on the next one, and the next, and the next."

"The war, come to us all, it will eventually."

"I know that. But . . . I just wanted him to have more time with his family. More time as Anakin before having to become Jedi Skywalker, determined to save the galaxy."

Yoda smiled. "You're concern for him, as always, is admirable. But protect him, you cannot, from his destiny. His destiny as the Chosen One. Bring balance to the Force, Anakin must."

It was true, Obi-wan knew. As much as he wanted to give Anakin the peaceful life his friend deserved, to live his life with wife and children without putting his life at risk, the galaxy needed its heroes. The Sith had to be destroyed. And Skywalker was meant to play a key role in the battle against the Darkness. It was inevitable that the time for planning and preparation would come to an end. It had simply come sooner than Obi-wan was ready for. Typical.

"Alright, Master. I'll call him. First thing in the morning. Give yourself time to rest, and allow us to get the rest of the Jedi situated."

The little Master nodded. With hobbling steps that spoke of his age, he followed a weary Kenobi down the _Falcon's_ ramp. The hanger was still full of people, but they had mostly calmed down. A few Jedi sat round speaking with curious Rebels. Others leaned against hulls, catching a moment's rest, or chatting in small groups.

Others went about their regular routine, keeping the fighters in good condition for what they knew must be a pending battle, whether it be tomorrow or a week from now. Obi-wan paused and took a moment to look over them.

Jedi. There were Jedi among the Rebels. Jedi come out of hiding, ready to fight. Jedi in the galaxy again. It was almost too good to believe.

And just as this was beginning to sink into Obi-wan's mind, become concrete truth, the sound of ships coming to dock in the hanger tore his attention away. Three sleek, silver fighters set down in the nearest available bay. With a quick cut of the engines, all three set down, releasing steam and sinking down on tired landing gear that spoke of a long flight.

The ships were familiar looking, but not as familiar as the figure that climbed out of the foremost fighter, slipped down the ladder and removed a helmet to reveal long, brunette hair tied into a no-nonsense bun at the back of her head.

Obi-wan blinked, felt surprise give way to delight, and in an ever-increasing strides made for the woman. She opened her arms as he approached and in the beat of their two hearts, their lips locked and the world around them was forgotten.

It lasted till their lungs screamed for air, and Kenobi found he wasn't even blushing as he pulled away.

"Sabé." He breathed, resting his forehead against hers.

"Thought you would have forgotten me, Jedi Master." The agent laughed breathlessly, twinning her fingers through the curls in his beard. There was a sadness in her eyes that hadn't been there before. After a pause, she closed her eyes and leaned against his chest. "I'm sorry how I left things, Obi-wan. That wasn't what…I'm sorry."

"Hey," he said, using a knuckle to softly raise her face to his. Soft, sad eyes stared back at him. "We can talk about that later, hmm? For now . . . let's just . . ."

Lips met again in a gentle caress, and loneliness, on both sides, fell silently away.

* * *

Hope you liked:D

Caslia


	43. Destiny, Thou Art a Fickle Creature: Ch1

I cannot _tell_ you how tempted I was to make the first scene the very last post and just end it there. It would have been a perfect ending. sigh Unfortunately for me, there is yet still more to come, including the return of all previously introduced characters, a bit of rattle-tat boom in battle and a final, startling discovery.

Unless there are readers eager for this to end so they can stop waiting around for posts. Please inform me if so.

Also, you'll notice the chapter name has changed, as this is now the 8th chapter in the RotL series. If anyone can happen to remember the original line, please let me know, as I borrowed it from somewhere and can't quite recall where. I'd like to give the proper thanks to whom ever I stole it from. Some famous playwright, I'm sure.

Strangely enough, though not intentional, I believe this is one of the few posts that has a scene completely from a secondary character's pov. Usually its from Anakin's or Obi-wan's, but this first scene is all Padme. And the second scene was totally unintentional, which is why it has little plot, no point, just some mushy stuff. And the scene after that…well, I think I might have gotten carried away. I was just having such a good time, laughing so hard and at one point having to reach for a tissue to dry my eyes, that any inappropriateness that might have occurred can only be blamed on the fact this was mostly written in the early morning hours. ;)

* * *

Chapter Eight:

_Destiny, Thou Art A Fickle Creature_

Four and a half years after _Rebirth of the Light. . ._

* * *

She knew she shouldn't be overly worried when she awoke to find her husband's side of the bed had its usual lack of occupancy. Anakin only occasionally slept in the same bed with her, usually choosing to sleep in Obi-wan's room. It was a situation Padme had forced herself to accept after their return from _Home One_, but over a period of time it had begun to grate more and more on her nerves.

There came a point when allowing this sort of behavior was only feeding into Anakin's feelings of loss of self worth. And besides, was it too much to ask to wake up in the arms of someone other than the empty sheets, or be gently called to consciousness by someone other than Threepio?

Padme didn't think so.

And occasionally, for no special reason other than she bore him two adorable little children, fought by his side during the most turbulent years of their lives, put up with his incessantly moody flip-flopping between Sides of the Force and the thousand or so times _she_ had certainly catered to _his_ needs, it would be nice if something like breakfast in bed for his darling wife might pop into his thick Jedi skull!

When the moodiness associated with waking up alone (again) finally passed, Padme slung aside the covers and went to check on her children before going in search of her errant husband.

Though the lack of his presence didn't bother her overly much, the fruitless search through the majority of their home, including the droid workshop and meditation room formed a crease between her eyes. It was far too early in the morning for him to have gone to the local market without telling 

her, what with the sun being barely over the horizon. Had a call come in from _Home One_ and not wanting to worry her, Anakin taken off without a word?

Surely even a thick-headed nerf herder like her husband knew it was better to inform her of his absence than simply disappear like that.

Both children were fast asleep in their shared room, covers pulled up to their chins and angel faces dusted with the sweet innocence missing when they awoke to wreak their four-year-old havoc. Luke especially looked drained, but there was a gentle smile on his parted lips, and Padme felt some of her irritation melt at the sight. She knew Leia's fiery spirit should concern her more, but the way Anakin always looked at his son, with boundless love and unexplainable pity, would have told any mother there was something more dangerous than the occasional temper-tantrum on the horizon.

"What is it, Mommy?"

She jumped, not having been aware Leia had woken up while she stood in the doorway, gazing at her supposedly sleeping cherubs.

"Nothing, honey. Go back to sleep." The little girl scrunched up her nose and nodded solemnly before laying her head back on the pillow. On the other side of the room, Luke gave a short, contented sigh and rolled onto his back. "Go back to sleep. The sun isn't even up yet."

Padme backed up and started to close the door, but her daughter, only half awake, mumbled something.

"What, Leia?"

"Said, Daddy's outside. By the willow tree."

Grinning, feeling her little girl's Force presence slowly slip from her mind and back into sluggish unconsciousness, Padme closed the door and snuck down the hallway. At the back door, she slipped on an old, grubby pair of loafers and went out to stand with her husband in the dewy morning grass.

Early morning critters chirped and serenaded the rising sun with their usual, quiet joy, but one part of the meadow had a hush about it, as if for the moment just content to be.

He was were Leia had known him to be, standing under the willow tree, his back leaning against the trunk and staring off into the darkness that was slowly receding over the hills. When she came within speaking distance, Padme slowed her steps and took a good look at him. Ever since his redemption, even while still wearing the suit, Anakin's body had almost seemed to slump while somehow still remaining stiff, as though the combination of a galaxy's weight in guilt and a developing nervous condition had played tug-of-war with his still supple frame.

But now, with the early morning sunshine haloing his features and a breeze brushing strands of once-blond hair into his eyes, his entire posture had undergone a change. The shoulders looked strong again, his form relaxed. Anakin had his hands in the pockets of his pants, something she had never seen him do before, and his entire air spoke of a feeling of _rightness_ with the galaxy that had been missing even during his previous Jedi years.

"Anakin?"

It seemed foolish to say his name in such a curious manner, but then, this man before her didn't seem to be the same as the one she had married, or who had spent the last few years struggling with inner demons.

Bright blue eyes turned her direction. Sunlight, or something else, she wasn't sure, glinted inside of them, and usually dower lips twisted into a sneaky yet adoring smile when he saw her standing here. "Good morning, love."

"Anakin," she looked for something to say, anything to convey her confusion. "Anakin, it's cold out here and . . . and . . . " she looked down at his feet, "and you're barefoot! Ani, you could catch cold! What were you thinking, come inside at once!" It must not have come out as harsh, or even as concerned as she would have liked, because her husband just chuckled, pushed himself off the willow's trunk with a surprisingly casual air, and started off toward the house.

Cautious, she fell in step beside him.

Stepping up onto the porch, he leaned forward and held open the door for her. They left their soggy shoes on the mat inside, or at least she did with an admonishing look in his direction, and they made for the kitchen.

"What do you feel like this morning?" Anakin asked, his voice light. Once she had sat down at the table, he turned his back and began to pull food out of the fridge. "I could make some balvarian eggs, perhaps fry a few slices of jekmet meat? Or some flapjacks! Luke just loves those, doesn't he? And Leia likes it when I use finash berries to make smiley faces on them." He poured her a glass of milk and set it down in front of her.

Padme just stared up him, confused but utterly delighted.

The milk sat between them, and Anakin's hand reached for it, came to a halt, pulled back. He stared at it as if unsure it had gotten there, frowning softly.

"Don't you want it?"

"I want you to tell me what's going on," she whispered.

Anakin, still looking perplexed, flexed his mechanic hand against the edge of the table. Under the skin, she could hear the wires and gears turn and click. Somehow it sounded incredibly loud in the bright kitchen, despite the bird songs wafting through the open windows.

"Anakin?" she said his name again, calling him back from wherever he had gone. "Don't you know what's going on?"

"Yes," he said at last. "I'm just not sure how to tell you." When her eyes widened, slight form stiffened, he hastened to reassure her. "Nothing's _wrong_ exactly, it's just . . . it's just . . . " and then he began to chuckle, a deep, hearty sound that hadn't been heard in a long time. "No, no. No, nothing is wrong, Padme. In fact, everything is . . . is _right_, I think."

"Anakin, Anakin, what are you talking about!" She couldn't help it, a little concern crept into her voice and Padme started to rise from the table, thinking to comfort, then restrain him as she sent for Obi-wan. But he quickly waved her away and sat down across from her at the table.

And when he was done telling her, telling her everything, Padme took a moment to listen to the birds singing outside her window, and watch the sunlight play across their kitchen, across their clasped hands, before quietly bursting into tears that all her husband's kisses could not hush.

* * *

Well into the morning, they lay in bed. Curled among the sheets, delighting in the simple touch of skin against skin as their humming bodies cooled, they grinned and cooed at each other. The rest of the 

galaxy laid locked outside the door, all responsibilities, all possible futures outside the next few minutes together was shut out by the happy glow that surrounded the couple.

"Don't you have something you should probably be doing?" she asked lazily.

"It can wait."

"I've never known you to be one to put off till tomorrow what you could do today."

He grinned slyly. "Looks like there's a lot you're learning about me today." Yanking the pillow out from under his head, she proceeded to gain the advantage and clambered aboard his broad chest.

"Obi-wan Kenobi! If I didn't know any better, I would think you're acting like something of a pig!"

"A very satisfied pig." The red-headed Jedi laughed, grabbed Sabé around the waist and slung her back onto the bed, grinning devilishly all the while.

With a smile just as bright, she entwined her fingers in the soft hair just under his chin and gave a little tug. "I can find no reason to disagree with such a statement."

"I'm glad to hear it." Leaning in, he sucked on her bottom lip till she moaned, a sound he found far too exciting, then rolled off the bed and stood up. "Milady will have to excuse me for a moment." From the floor he grabbed his tunic, discarded hastily the night before, and headed toward the door.

Remembering Padme's lesson on the perfect pout, Sabé stuck out her bottom lip just so and stared doe-eyed after her retreating Jedi. "Where are you going? I thought you said whatever it is could wait."

"It can." He grinned, nearly toppling over as he slipped on his boots. She looked utterly mused, gorgeous hair all in a tumble, the sheet clutched just so as if to appear modest in his presence. The only thing that kept him from jumping right back in bed with her was a sudden growl. "But I fear a Wookie has taken up residence in my stomach and I must attend to him before I can attend to you. Perhaps I can persuade the . . . 'chef' to prepare a little love basket I can bring back from the cafeteria."

Sabé quickly hid her smirk behind a hand, but the laugh escaped nonetheless. "Obi-wan…a-a _l-love basket_? Did you just say that?"

"I do believe I did. Ta, love." And he was gone out the door, whistling some ridiculous holodrama love tune that had people passing in the corridor staring after him.

Back in the room, Sabé let out a deep, contented sigh, then spread out on the bed, pleased with herself, the promise of food (even if it was mess food) and the situation in general. When she was sure he wasn't coming back, on her back she kicked her feet up into the air, sending the sheet billowing out, beat her fists against the mattress and squealed girlishly in delight.

There couldn't possibly be anyone else in the galaxy nearly as happy as she was at that moment.

* * *

"Oh, Anakin! This is . . . this is just . . . I don't think I've ever been this happy!" Padme managed between kisses as her husband backed her towards their bedroom.

"Really," he gasped, pulling away from her petal-soft lips before nibbling at the base of her neck, "because you still haven't stopped crying."

She gulped, hiccupped and managed a watery response. "And I never hope to. I just can't believe it. Peace at last!"

They slammed into the wall beside the door to their bedroom, nearly knocking a picture off the wall, then somehow managed to negotiate through the doorway without tripping over the threshold, before colliding abruptly with an ill-placed chair. Through it all, they barely noticed.

"It's not peace yet," he reminded her, pausing only the briefest of moments to tug his shirt over his head and cast it aside. "There's still the Empire. I need to . . . to call Obi-wan as soon as possible."

"Of course." With a blind, groping hand, Padme tired three times with no success to close the bedroom door while still keeping her lips locked with his. Anakin whisked it shut, and locked, with the use of the Force.

"He'll know what to do." Another kiss, tongues battling for control before pulling away for air. "I can't wait to see the look on everyone's faces when I tell them. And what will Obi-wan think . . . about Qui-gon being here?" The back of her knees hit the edge of the bed and they tumbled onto the unmade bed, white sheets billowing up around them.

"I don't . . . I don't know." She struggled briefly with the tie to her robe.

"I should call him immediately," he moaned, tongue dancing across her collarbone that sent sharp shivers racing through her body, making her back arch. "He'll want to know everything. There's so much to plan, and I don't have a clue what to do next." Somewhere in the process, articles of clothing had been shed with disregard across the bed, draping over the side. Hands groped, tongues clashed, broke apart. "Obi-wan will know. Just imagine the look on his face."

"Ugh," Padme managed, battling with the belt of his Jedi tunic. "Could we maybe _not_ talk about Obi-wan right now? In case you were unaware, we're kind of occupied with each other at the moment."

"Right!" Anakin looked somewhat abashed. "Right, course. Sorry, Padme." He leaned in and kissed her, slowly at first, with just a hint of passion, than slightly rougher, locking lips with such determination that her toes curled. When he pulled, his startling blue eyes stared into the very depths of her soul. "What about on our wedding night?"

It took a moment for her mind to catch up with the words. "_What!_ ANAKIN!" was what finally emerged, more a squawk than anything else. He stared back at her, curiously perplexed like he had been with the glass of milk.

"On our wedding night. You said you'd never been this happy as you are now. What about then?"

Grabbing the closest available object, conveniently one of the decorative pillows she had pushed off the side of the bed, Padme proceeded to beat the stuffing out of her husband before, laughing, they celebrated the now dual residency of their bed.

Hours later, with the twins thankfully in the care of the droids, he brought her a stunningly romantic breakfast in bed.

* * *

:D

Caslia


	44. Destiny, Thou Art a Fickle Creature: Ch2

Grin, grin. Wags eyebrows Guess what? Another post. Pretty soon, huh?

Best to read the following author's note:

I mention Cato Neimoidia; it's a real planet in the Expanded Universe, I didn't make it up. Just in case you were curious. Hopefully you'll get the Earth pop culture reference.

I realize Tie fighters and X-wings came much later in time, according to the original universe. However, let us consider for the moment that huge amounts of money were donated to the Rebel cause in the earlier chapter where the rebels' number swell due to the 'deflection' of Darth Vader. So it's possible the alliance could have commissioned a squadron of X-wings. I have no explanation for how the Tie fighters are making such an early appearance. Just go with it, okay? It's an AU anyway.

And despite all the stick the pilots give the ships, I love x-wings; they're second only to the _Falcon_ and _Slave I_ in level of cool things that fly through space (and the tennis shoe in the '77 version of ANH). I just loved the thought of how the original rebels might respond to their introduction.

And I realize the threat they are now facing is extremely cliché for an AU. But you know it's gotta happen sometime. Beside, it's a little more realistic than the sudden appearance of starships from twenty years in the future, right?

Also remember, in this AU, Anakin played no part in the raid on the Temple, as he was in surgery at the time.

Just a reminder from the last post's author's note, lots of characters from previous chapters are going to show up eventually, including but not limited to Shira Brie the medic, Tash from Warped Wards, Jan Sollik the rebel pilot, Han and Chewie (from the Emperor's Interference chapter), Bail Organa, Mon Mothma, Yoda and, of course, Sabe. I know it's been a long time since of some of these characters have made an appearance, and OCs can be hard to keep track of, so this is your heads up for later on.

* * *

Chapter Eight:

_Destiny, Thou Art A Fickle Creature_

Four and a half years after _Rebirth of the Light. . ._

* * *

X-wings. Tash eyed the new ships and laughed quietly to himself. What would the High Command think of next? He'd be surprised if these things ever got off the hanger floor, much less engaged the superior firepower of the Imperial ships in deep space. The Tie fighters had speed on their side, and required only the pilot to fly them.

These hunks of junk required an artoo unit, for Force sake!

"This has got to be some sort of really bad joke on Organa's part." He mumbled, running an expert hand over the hull. The ships had been adopted from a previous design used by a rebellion against their elitist class system on an outer rim planet. For that reason, speed hadn't been a concern, as the fighters would have been attacking huge luxury cruisers attempting to flee the planet, carrying the affluent to safety from the furious swarm of the proletariat labor force. The rebellion had succeeded, 

but lacking in any strong organization or knowledge of galactic economics, the resulting regime had nearly collapsed. Bankrupt, they had sold to the highest bidder: the Rebel Alliance. "At least we got to 'em before the Empire took 'em over. Not that they're worth much."

"Hey, used to be we didn't have a mess hall to eat poodoo in, if you know what I mean." One of Tash's wingmen eagerly caressed the underside of one of the wings, then craned his neck to examine the S-foil attached. "Isn't it just the way of it? We finally get some ships that will hold together in deep space, and manage to get them fitted with hyperspace capability, and what happens? The Empire clambers down off our backs and all but disappears!"

"I heard they're busy fighting each other."

Tash's one good eye and his other bio-engineered one Medic Brie had equipped him with raised to look up at the young mechanic who was at work on the droid port. The kid had been up there for nearly three hours now, trying to get everything set to go, a job Tash did not envy.

It was enough to remind him everyday that he was damned lucky Brie had been able to do what she did for him. Before entering the Warped Wards a year ago, after just coming out of a battle that had taken the upper left side of his face with it, his commanding officer had done his best to kindly inform the pilot that without both eyes in working order, he'd never fly again. Instead, he'd have found himself working on the hanger crew, not a dishonorable ending for a fighter pilot, but Tash's spirit would have taken a beating.

"Yeah," he smirked, the reconstructed part of his face moving perfectly with the motion, eyebrow even lifting slightly to convey disbelief. "That will be the day. If that was how it was going to turn out, they could have saved us all a lot of trouble." His squadron mates muttered their accord."

"And," another added, a Twi'lek who'd been around so long, she'd been on the Republic guard when they introduced the first clone soldiers, "we wouldn't have to fly these ugly-looking scavengers."

"You don't approve?"

Tash grinned. He knew that voice. The small group that had gathered around one of the fighters turned, revealing a woman standing just on the edge of their circle. She was dressed in a smuggler's outfit; not surprising, as this was quickly becoming the status quo for most rebel clothing, blaster strapped to her side and a no-nonsense look on her lovely, angelic face. Silky brown hair had been braided and coiled round the top of her head, out of the way.

With arms crossed and brow lowered in what was most likely disapproval of their critique of the fighters, Sabe looked a sight. Taking her hand in his, Tash bowed over it and just barely brushed his lips over his knuckles before she pulled away.

"M'lady, how kind of you to grace us lowly pilots and crewmen with your presence."

His administrations did nothing to curb her obvious irritation. "If you don't like the new fighters, you should take it up with High Command. Perhaps there is another squadron that could do with almost brand new starships, and you and yours can make do with the mismatched Separatist and Republican fighters we have back at the _Frigate_. Or," her demeanor darkened, "you can remember the men and women fighting for their freedom who died in those ships, and the number of rebel spies who put their lives on the line to get a hold of them for you."

Behind him, Tash could hear a scuffling of feet, followed by the sound of numerous embarrassed pilots and mechanics suddenly coming down with a contagious strain of the common cold. He quietly measured the young informant before him.

"You're right." He conceded, his voice probably lacking in the amount of humilitation she'd have liked to hear. Their eyes locked, but he refused to back down, and Sabe didn't appear overly distressed by the glassy eye staring back at her. "But you can't blame a couple of grounded pilots from griping a little now and then. We've been base-side for nearly a year now. Nothing but herds of the locals' cattle to make passes at, and even then, we get reprimanded for 'abusing the Rebellion's visiting rights.'"

The mechanic above them rustled about in his orange jumpsuit, looking for tools in his back pockets. "Course, fighting cattle and fighting Imperials is pretty much the same thing. Both stupid, both get sick on their own cud."

While the others quietly admonished him, Sabe eyed Tash. "I know you've been grounded for longer than usual." When he raised his brow in amused disbelief, it coaxed a small smile out of her. "Okay, a really long time. Now, if you're done insulting the beautiful starship there, maybe you'd like to join me in a conference."

"Conference?" Tash chuckled. "What in this galaxy could possibly be happening that anyone would ask _me_ to attend a conference?"

"The fate of this entire organization, and the galaxy, may rest on it."

His chuckle died in the face of her sincerity. Silently, Sabe took him by the arm and led Tash away as his squadron, laughing at his misfortune turned back to modifying the X-wings for a battle they figured wouldn't be any time in the foreseeable future.

* * *

"Artoo, surely you must be aware that you are suffering from some sort of delusional malady that affects droids."

The little droid unit blew a raspberry at his counterpart and turned in a huff to roll down the hall way. His offended exit would have been more successful if he hadn't had to dodge numerous coloring books the twins had left scattered about the floor.

"Don't act so insulted!" Threepio called after him, swinging his golden arms up into the air and shuffling after. "I'm merely saying that what you claim to have seen is completely impossible! Oh, look at this mess." The taller droid nearly had to two-step to get around a particular pile of dolls, some half dressed, that Leia had forgotten to put away before going to lunch. "I was never meant to act as a nanny! That isn't a part of my functions. Oh, what was Master Anakin thinking! Artoo, come back!"

In the kitchen, the others were preparing for a quick lunch before leaving for _Home One_. Anakin had decided not to call ahead, but simply show up. Obi-wan would be concerned if his friend had called with mysterious news he refused to discuss over the holonet. Best to just surprise his friend. No doubt Kenobi could use a visit from family after so many months apart.

"When are we gonna get to see Uncle Obi?" Leia was practically bouncing up and down in her chair. When she thought her father wasn't looking, she reached over and gently pinched her brother, trying to get him to join in. Luke eyed her with a look that clearly said he loved her, then stole a handful of potato chips from her plate.

"First we have to eat lunch," Padme replied cheerfully, sneaking glances at her husband, who, in the presence of his children, refused his natural instinct to return her sly looks. "Then we have to get our things together and drive to the base. We'll meet your uncle there. You remember the base, don't you?"

"Yuh-huh. They fixed Daddy."

"That's right. And you and Luke had fun playing with Jan and the other children in the village. You can see them all again, but only after you eat your lunch."

Padme placed drinks in front of her family and sat down to join them. The twins immediately took to devouring their sandwiches, smearing peanut butter and jelly all across their angelic faces. Content, hands linked across the table and food untouched, their parents watched them.

Tongue glued to the top of his mouth, Luke reached for his cup. Over the rim that nearly swallowed his whole face, he looked at both his mother and father. Neither of them said anything, but when the cup came away, there was a huge smile plastered across his face, mischievous enough to make Anakin once again uncomfortable about just how much his son knew.

"Really, you _are_ too bold! What will Mistress Padme think of you!"

With a 'thuuurrppppt', Artoo rolled into the kitchen and came to a stop, beeping and whirling in front of Anakin. None one was really surprised when a distressed Threepio followed just behind.

"What's this?" Padme grinned, finding not even the squabbling of the droids could diffuse her feeling of wellbeing.

"Oh, Mistress Padme, you must forgive him. Artoo thinks he's seen a ghost! Can you imagine! A ghost! Well, that's what he gets, listening to all those silly stories on the holonet late at night, that's what I say. Ghosts indeed! I – "

"Who did you see, Artoo?" Grinning, Anakin knelt in front of the little droid he thought of as one of his family and used a napkin to clean away a crayon smear. Artoo might have traveled from Naboo with Padme all those years ago, and Threepio had been built in his room on Tatooine for his mother, but somewhere along the way, their relationships with each other had taken on new, extraordinary dimensions. Most of the time, Threepio deferred to Padme, and Artoo to Anakin.

They were the best of friends, though, and perfect nannies, though they tended to squabble more than the children.

Artoo's doom rotated around and his lights flashed, communicating through his visual as much as audible systems.

"Qui-gon." Luke said, licking at purple stains around his mouth.

His mother had been in the process of reaching to wipe them away when she froze. Her eyes flew to Anakin's.

He could only sigh. It seemed no matter what he did, Luke knew more than he was supposed to. No doubt he had been there last night, after Anakin thought he had sent his son to bed. Which meant the boy knew as much about the situation as his parents did. Weary for the first time that day, Anakin turned eyes on his little daughter.

Gleefully smeared with jelly as well, Leia nodded. Only her eyes were wide, as a child's should be at the thought of a ghost, while Luke's ever-maturing look had been calm and confident.

"Yep." She agreed, "Grandpa Jinn."

In the silence that passed as the children looked to their parents and Padme and Anakin exchanged their own looks, Threepio surveyed the room and came to his own conclusion. "Oh dear. It's contagious. They're all mad."

"I'm afraid not," Anakin sighed. "I saw him as well, last night. We talked actually." As the golden droid began to rant about insanity in the background, the Jedi turned worried but stern eyes on his son. "Luke, is there anything else you know about that you should probably tell me? Anything that Qui-gon told you?" The boy shook his head, looking undeterred by the serious look he was receiving.

With a sharp whistle, Artoo began to toot again and rattled back and forth on his wheels, demanding Anakin's attention.

"What's he saying," Padme asked, never having learned to read the droid the way her Force-sensitive husband and son had.

Anakin took a moment to listen to the droid, then sat quietly, thinking. At last, he nodded and patted Artoo gently on his domed head. "He said it wasn't last night he saw Master Qui-gon. It was this morning. And he said the droids are to come with us to _Home One_."

"But…why?" In response, Artoo whistled that he was going to go plug in so as to be charged to full power and rolled out of the kitchen.

"Will _someone_ tell me what's going on!" Threepio trailed after him, arms still in the air, swinging in aggravation. Anakin turned to his wife, grinning.

"Artoo said he didn't think to ask. He just assumed the Force would make it clear when we get there."

Padme huffed softly and rose to take the plates from the twins. "Some day, I want to have a chat with the Force and sort this whole thing out. Or at least it could make me more aware of it, so I'm not the only one in this family who doesn't get a visit from a ghostly Jedi Master to receive mysterious orders. Now go get your children ready before they get so hyperactive they beat us to the base simply by running along side the speeder."

Anakin had no doubt if anyone could coerce the Force into explaining itself, it was his wife. Force knew she had him well enough in hand.

* * *

"You're out of your Force-blind mind."

"I would find it far more comforting if that were the case." Sabe sighed and sat down at the conference table next to Tash. Her slouched shoulders and the crease forming between her eyes made the former handmaiden of a queen look far older than the pilot guessed she probably was. And yet, despite her youth, she carried so much responsibility: the Alliance's most proficient informant, one of the few spies the Empire had never even caught wind of, and now this.

"It isn't possible. I mean, sure, we know what the Empire is capable of. The cruel oppression of planets, the demolition of an entire Force-sensitive order. Palpatine managed to turn the entire Republic against itself, played with us like tiny rubber Hutts in a galactic-sized bathtub. But nobody, even being Sith, can come up with something like this." Tash felt edgy under his companion's steady gaze. "We just don't have the technology!" He finally protested.

"They do," she confirmed. "They've been working on it since Geonosis. And we're running out of time."

"Does High Command know?"

"Of course."

"Anyone else?"

"Like we would let something like this become common knowledge." She scowled, but it was short lived, especially when he gave her an understanding look and placed a warm hand over hers. This time, Sabe didn't pull away. "It was my team that stole the information, and I didn't even know what it was. The mission we were on had nothing to do with this. It was an accident, actually. Troopers cornered us in one of the central control rooms. After we had shot up the techs," Tash wondered if it was to her credit she didn't even blink in relating that, "we divided up. One traded fire with the Imps as the door slammed shut; another was looking for a way out. I just happened to think to hit the download switch, transfer the information. It was only after we got back that the techs were able to decode it. I found out only this morning."

Her laughter then was weak, calling back memories of a shaky situation that very easily could have ended without the rebel team's escape. "It's a wonder the things you can find if you manage to get cornered in the Imperial Palace."

Tash didn't have anything to say to that, never having seen the former Jedi Temple himself, and only having the vaguest idea of what it could possibly be like, having the mind to steal information from a control consol while troopers fired at the thin sheet of durasteel that separated them from you. It was different than fighting in space. Despite the crushing blackness just beyond his cockpit, there was always that feeling that so long as the engines were running hot, you had a way to escape.

"Okay, so this is all really happening." Sabe shot him a berating looking, but he pressed on. "It's real, and we're all gonna die. I'll buy that bantha. But if this is it, why the fighters? That must have cost thousands of credits. Why call me in here, tell me all this?"

"If we move fast enough, we've still got a chance."

"You _are_ out of your mind! You think we got a chance against this…this 'Death Star'?"

Reaching across the table, Sabe pulled back up the holo of the schematics. Above them on the table loomed a planet-shaped technological wonder, or monstrosity, depending on how Tash looked at it. How the Empire, and before it the Separatist movement had been able to work on such a thing without even the smallest bit of information leaking out to the rest of the galaxy, he had no idea. But then, there was a lot of space out there to hide in. "Look, it's only half built, and they don't even have the actual weapon constructed yet. But we _know_ what it _will_ be capable of once its completed."

Tash shook his head at the sight of a computer engineered, mini-Death Star blowing up a tiny replica of Corellia.

"What are they thinking? That thing will never have hyperspace capabilities."

"It doesn't need to. Just knowing it exists, its mere presence, will be enough to cower the galaxy into submission, or face the threat of being blown away."

"Or bring more people running to join to Alliance."

In the haunting blue light of the holo, cast eerily across the otherwise darkened room, Sabe's cheerless expression stole away whatever gusto Tash had remaining from the jocularity he had been enjoying in the hanger only an hour ago.

"That's only if there's anyone left."

There was a defeated silence between them, the Empire's sinister construction spinning ominously above.

"Why me then," his voice came out in a harsh whisper, as if anything else would have felt rude in the suddenly mausoleum-like atmosphere the Death Star cast over the room. "If you haven't taken a look around recently, there's plenty of Jedi out there. And don't forget Skywalker. I know he's been gone a while now, but you'd think just the merest hint of something like this and he'd be back, lightsaber swinging."

There was something about the look Sabe directed his way, something that spoke of a desperate terror, a deep longing still unfulfilled, that brought Tash up short. He'd seen that look before, had worn it himself, when he'd seen green pilots who were his friends go into their first battle. Went in all cocky and eager, came out blown into little unrecognizable bits, just more space dust floating outside his cockpit window.

For someone who stayed cool in the face of Imperial death squads banging down her door, Tash wondered what could make someone like Sabe pale at such a suggestion.

"We can't always rely on the Jedi," she murmured at last. "If Palpatine had succeeded, if Anakin had never turned back, there wouldn't be any at all. You're right, I have looked around. And there's too few Jedi out there as it is. The people of this galaxy need to learn to fight their own battles, to be strong, and not wait for mythical warriors to fight in their stead. Especially when those warriors are just people themselves, who don't deserve to live alone and die in causes not all their own."

In the face of so quiet, but passionate a speech, and the ghostly light cast by the atrocious holo before him, Tash had nothing more to say.

* * *

"Come on now, it ain't like I don't have other runs to make, you know!" The rebels unloading the cargo hold of the _Millennium Falcon_ laughed at the seventeen-year-old scruffy pilot giving them orders and continued to unload at their usual pace. "Bunch of land-lovers." Han scoffed good-naturedly. "Get off this base once in a while and you'd realize the Alliance keeps time differently than the rest of the galaxy."

"Get off it, Solo." One of them grinned, cheerfully taking a swing at one of the youngest rebels to fly supply missions for _Home One_. "You don't have anywhere to go anyway till you get orders."

Never one to be left behind, Han took his own swing, faking left, then bent to help carry one of the heavier crates out of his ship's hold. Grunting along side the others, he wished not for the first time that he hadn't listened to Chewie about not building up a little more muscle. The Wookie had argued physical strength was _his_ part of the partnership, and his best friend should focus on those fast wits of his that seemed to get them out of every trouble they'd ever run into.

Not that they ran into much these days, with the Imps playing their cards so close to home.

"Hey, I'll be out of here before next light," Solo replied when they'd set the crate with the others on the hanger floor.

"How'd you figure?"

"How do you think the Alliance intends to feed all those Jedi that arrived last night? Were so many of 'em, Chewie and I've been floating up in space because there wasn't any room in the hanger, what with all their ships. Someone's gotta run supply runs, and the _Falcon's_ that fastest ship we got."

A young Alderaanian woman, with soft blond hair creating sharp contrast with her greasy mechanic's outfit, smirked and jerked her head to indicate the far end of the hanger. "Nu-uh, haven't you seen the new fighters we got? The X-wings will outrun your old junk heap any day."

Stung at the name she had called his lady, Han scowled. Tucking his hands into torn up smuggler trousers, he kicked the crate, unwilling to come to blows with a woman.

"Ain't nothing that can outrun the _Falcon_." He muttered. "'Sides, you ever seen a fighter carry anything other than its pilot?"

From back within the cargo hold, the wailing of an angry Wookie pierced the busy clamor of the hanger, followed by demanding barks and the shouting of one of the hanger crew. Silently cursing (never in front of a woman, Chewie had always instructed him), Han turned and raced up the ramp. In the back, he could see the huge frame of his friend, who was presently trying to dissuade the crewmen Han could just make out from somewhere within all the flying fur.

Upon seeing what the argument was over, Solo raced to the Wookie's side.

"What's his problem?" The crewmen demanded, backing away from the crate Chewbacca was now standing defensively over. "We gotta get this unloaded."

"Not that," Han eyed the crate, then exchanged a look with his co-pilot. "That's . . . uh, that's mine. Weren't enough room for it in the lounge so I moved it back here. Must have gotten mixed up with the rest of the stuff. Chewie here was just making sure you didn't accidently unload the wrong cargo."

With a grumble, the rebel crewmen adjusted his hat which had fallen askew in the brief struggle with the insistent Wookie, then stormed off down the ramp.

The crew of the _Millennium Falcon_ silently watched him leave.

When they were sure he and the others were finished, Han knelt and unlocked the crate. He took a quick look to make sure everything was alright, then quickly closed the lid. Turning anxious eyes on his similarly apprehensive co-pilot, Solo reset the lock and stood.

"Right then, Chewie. Let's go find us some Jedi."

* * *

Anakin swore the next time they had a family outing, one that included the droids and a couple of suitcases (Padme had insisted on bringing 'a few things', not knowing how long they were going to stay at the base), he would hire a nomadic tribe of Tuskens with their Banthas to carry everything and keep the squabbling pairs apart. The speeder simply wasn't big enough, even with Leia in her mother's lap and Luke in Threepio's in the back.

But they managed to arrive at the base in one piece, which was more than could be said about their last trip, in which everyone had been intent on rushing Anakin to the emergency room after his little lightsaber incident. Making the trip unconscious for a second time hadn't seemed like a bad idea when twenty minutes from the house, Threepio had started on one of his rants and Leia kept trying to reach back and antagonize her brother.

Artoo had whistled the theme to the holodrama, 'Pirates of Cato Neimoidia,' the entire way.

Pulling hard on the brakes, the speeder swung sideways into the hanger of _Home One_, jostling those in the back, and Anakin had barely shut the engine down before jumping out. He gave his wife a pleading look as she climbed out and moved to unload the luggage.

One look at him and Padme sighed. "Lift the droids out and then, yes, you can leave and go find Obi-wan. I'll take care of the rest." Gleefully, Anakin did as requested before racing off into the cavernous underground base.

As their mother fought with the luggage, and endured Threepio's attempts at helping, the twins watched the retreating back of their father. Leia gave her brother a look before turning to similarly help her mother, muttering, "Men."

* * *

After leaving Sabe to dress and attend a meeting called by a group of the Alliance's technicians, Obi-wan had spent the afternoon getting reacquainted with his fellow Jedi Knights. He and Yoda hadn't seen each other since the old Master's and Anakin's civilized exchange on Naboo, in which Yoda had expressed his pride and approval of the redeemed Sith Lord before disappearing in search of survivors of the raids on the Temple. His efforts had born fruit; there were some twenty-three Jedi Masters and well over seventy knights that had arrived the night before. Of padawans, there were a depressingly low number, but that would change in a few years.

Overall, Obi-wan felt hopeful and energized. The greatest challenge, he was quickly discovering, was not the housing of these Jedi, or even convincing them to aid in the battles ahead, but rather, convincing some of the older Masters to consider changing their teaching methods.

Apparently the conclusions Obi-wan and Anakin had come to about the Jedi Order over the last few years had been limited to the two of them, probably due to their rather individualized experiences outside of the limits of the Code.

"Masters, you must understand," Obi-wan tried again, feeling his eagerness for renewed contact with other Jedi melt away in the face of their obstinacy. "Times have changed; the Order must adapt to be able to survive."

Gharlin, a Master Obi-wan had always admired for his calm demeanor in every battle, even the one that had taken his more recent apprentice from him, grunted in his native tongue. "What you're proposing we destroy is the very thing that kept the Jedi alive for centuries, Master Kenobi. Abolish the Code? Encourage aggressive behavior? Were I not seeing brown robes on your back and a soft light about your aura, I would think it is your former apprentice that has been instructing you these past years, and not the other way around."

Comments about Anakin had been few since the Jedi's arrival, seeing as it was a sore issue, but they still made Obi-wan bristle in defense. He cast questing eyes on Yoda, but the Jedi Master simply blinked and turned his attention back to Gharlin, silently suggesting it was up to Kenobi to defend himself, Skywalker, and their position.

"I am not suggesting we abolish the Code, Master. I am suggesting we reconstruct it to fit the past events, and ensure a future better structured to the needs of everyone involved. The Jedi have cut themselves off in the past. It was because of this we were blind to the Sith's manipulation of the Republic."

All around the conference room, Jedi softly buzzed, either in quiet agreement or fierce dismissal of his words. Finding no help from the ever-observant Master Yoda, Obi-wan pressed on.

"We need to be more in touch with the people around us. And, with each other. The Code requires us to create an emotional barrier between ourselves and other Jedi, even with our apprentices and masters. But if we were to encourage a strong, familial bond – "

"It would interfere!" A knight called out from the back. Another hushed him and requested Obi-wan continue, before another spoke up. "Our loyalties have to be to the people, to the Republic, not to each other."

"The Republic is dead." Another reminded them.

"To the Alliance, then."

"How do we know we can trust them? They could be – "

"This isn't about trust, or building a new republic. It's about defeating the Empire."

The voices of younger Knights, and the few, older apprentices who had been allowed to attend, began to fill the room. Kenobi sighed, irritated at the discussion having gotten out of hand but grateful fro the brief reprieve it gave him from the disgruntled questions and accusations of the more traditional masters.

The rapping of Yoda's cane against the floor brought the room back to order.

"Continue, you will, Master Kenobi." His steel gaze moved across the room, and some of the younger members, and a few older ones, Obi-wan noticed with a slight grin, cowered under it. "Further interruptions, there will not be."

"Thank you, Master Yoda." Obi-wan nodded his thanks before trying to take back up where he had left off. "In my experience, the Code helped foster discipline, and yes, loyalty to a set of ideas and morals that Jedi must continue to follow. But it also created a distance between myself and my master," here he felt a sharp pain in his chest, even after all these years, and had to take a breath before he could confidently continue, "and I never had the chance to truly reach out to him before his death. There was so much we might have shared as friends that could only be conveyed as best it could across the lines of Master and apprentice."

"Then there is my relationship with Anakin Skywalker." Voices in the back began to whisper softly, but one look from Yoda quelled them all. "I used to think if I been more strict with him, been the Master we all strive to be for our apprentices, he might not have fallen under Sidious' manipulations. But in these past years, I have learned it was my failing in showing him affection that pushed him to seek approval elsewhere. I had a hand in Skywalker's fall, and am as much as fault as he is; do not doubt that. But our relationship has undergone great changes."

In the quiet of the room, Obi-wan felt suddenly uncomfortable. In revealing this, and more, he felt as if, in some way, he was discussing something scandalous, something private and forbidden. His love for Anakin wasn't something he had ever put into words, or ever tired to convey to another; he had never had to. Other than Padme, with whom all he required was the exchange of a look to share his emotions, no one outside of Anakin himself was truly aware of the depth of feelings, and the devotion Obi-wan had for his former apprentice.

In trying to explain it to the surrounding Jedi, all waiting with, for some, what he knew to be accusing looks, Obi-wan could find very few words he could give them to explain so lasting a relationship, one which had been etched into his very soul. It made up a large part of who he was, and without it, Kenobi silently admitted to himself, he feared he might flounder in the great emptiness that was the galaxy without the Skywalker family.

"He is my brother." He said at last, eyes on the floor. "He is my best friend. It's true; Anakin is married, and has children." More disgruntled and surprised rumblings from the assembled Jedi. "And he has welcomed me into that family, made me a part of it."

Another Jedi Master, a Bothan that Obi-wan didn't recognize, coughed and looked to Yoda for approval to speak. "Wasn't it the existence of this family that was partially why Skywalker turned? He was forced to choose between his loyalty to the Jedi and to his wife. If what you suggest is done, all Jedi will be similarly torn. We must remain dedicated to the cause."

"The cause," Obi-wan responded, feeling his confidence return, "is the protection of the people of this galaxy. We cannot protect them if we are not a part of them, do not value the same things as they do. How can we continue to claim to honor what is best for the citizens of the Republic, or this Alliance, or any other governing body to which the people look to, if our interests are different than theirs?"

"Are you suggesting," a Knight asked, casting glances around the room, "that Jedi . . . that we _all_ should have families? Should foster children, and still do our duties as Jedi?"

"Families don't have to be blood kin," another spoke up. Obi-wan noticed he wasn't the only one aware the young Knight was holding hands with another standing just behind him. Another stepped up on his other side, in a show of friendly support that said far more than words. "We make our own families. Some of us, like Skywalker, could have children. I agree with Master Kenobi. We need to be involved with the people. Maybe if we had been all along, none of this would have happened."

Gharlin and a few others looked clearly disapproving of this brazen suggestion. From Obi-wan they were willing to tolerate it, as he was one of Yoda's favorite, and a now well-known eccentric Jedi Master. But the younger generation finding common ground with such things was obviously not something they wanted to hear.

"It would have happened no matter what the Jedi did."

From the back of the room, the voice of a Jedi knight spoke softly in the crammed room, but every head turned at the sound. Startled, Obi-wan spun to face the new-comer, feeling delight and apprehension tumble into one and settle in the pit of his stomach. Around him, Jedi Masters and Knights had suddenly tensed.

Slowly, as if disbelieving, the Jedi before Obi-wan parted, and Anakin walked cautiously into the room.

His eyes betrayed his hesitancy, his guilt, but Kenobi felt his friend squashing the fear that rose up in the presence of so many he had willing wronged. Skywalker's posture said nothing of his concern, however, and he approached the inner ring of Masters with a confidence that had not been there the last time Obi-wan had seen his friend.

When he was sure every eye was on him, Anakin spoke again. "It was my fault and mine alone for what occurred, for the destruction of the Jedi and the raiding of the Temple. That was unavoidable, where the actions of other Jedi were concerned. However, I agree with Master Kenobi. It is time to change the Code, to ensure the future of this Order."

"You shouldn't have a say, traitor!"

The accusation came from among the apprentices present, and others were quick to hush their companion. Admonishing eyes of the Masters turned on the small group, but most continued to stare at Skywalker.

Speaking for the second time since the conference had convened, Yoda demanded total attention. "Welcome, Jedi Skywalker. Valued, your opinion and experiences would be, among this congregation. Though spoken for you, Master Kenobi, may already have."

Anakin glanced at Obi-wan, a look that clearly said he had been here long enough to hear most of what had been said, including the admissions concerning their brotherly relationship. He offered a fleeting smile before turning his attention back to the assembled Jedi.

"No doubt. But Master Kenobi and I are not of the same mind about everything." Other glances were exchanged around the room, especially among the Masters, and Skywalker refused to look at Obi-wan before continuing. "Previously, you were discussing changes concerning training techniques, including 

the study of more aggressive saber fighting." There were nods around the room, and this time, Anakin did glance at his friend, a slight grin tugging at his lips. "It wouldn't be a bad idea, but I wouldn't think it overly necessary."

A master he vaguely remembered from some battles during the Clone Wars sputtered. "Not necessary! Vader . . . Jedi Skywalker, you forget in you _infinite experience_ with such matters, we will be sending these young knights up against Sith and Dark Jedi. They will need to be able to fight."

Obi-wan gave Anakin silent praise for not wincing when Gharlin slipped (or intentionally stated, Obi-wan wasn't sure) Skywalker's Sith name. The younger Jedi barely blinked.

"They will be facing Dark Jedi, yes. Whose techniques with lightsabers are aggressive and whose training has taught them to be lethal in less traditional manners than the Jedi are accustomed. But no Jedi will be facing Sith any time soon." Anakin surveyed the room, looking to each Jedi in turn, even those in the back that Obi-wan was unable to distinguish. And suddenly, where there had been a defensive air about the room since his arrival, Kenobi felt Jedi reacting to his presence by drawing closer. They seemed compelled suddenly to listen, were drawn in by the anxious silence that lingered between such a statement and the next.

"The Emperor is dead."

No one in the room breathed. It was like Anakin's words had somehow managed to suck the air out of the room. Widened eyes stared at him, mouths hug open, swinging tentacles and head tails froze in mid-motion and Calamari forgot to blink in the dry atmosphere. Even Yoda seemed startled.

Slowly, like he was dreaming, Obi-wan turned to his friend, disbelief written in bold Basic across his ashen face.

Just as slowly, a grin spread across Anakin Skywalker's face, years of mirth that had gone unspent suddenly finding a place to rest on his youthful face filled with Light. He opened his mouth to say he had wanted Obi-wan to be the first of them all to know, but the room had already erupted into a hundred voices.

* * *

Whew! Okay, I think that's long enough for now, don't you?

More soon!

Caslia


	45. Destiny, Thou Art a Fickle Creature: Ch3

Well, here we are again. I would just like to point out I have a ton of homework to be doing. And yet somewhere, my only thought at the moment seems to be 'I _really_ want to write a post!' and can't seem to concentrate on anything else. So, as strange as this sounds, the only way I'm ever going to get any work done is to write a post and get all of this out of my system.

On a side note, you might want to go to the official SW site, to the databank, and look up members of the Chagrian and Umbaran species. All others I've referred to have been pretty familiar, like Twi'leks, Wookies, Calamari and general humanoids.

* * *

Chapter Eight:

_Destiny, Thou Art A Fickle Creature_

Four and a half years after _Rebirth of the Light. . ._

* * *

Well, Anakin thought as the voices around him melded into a thunderous demand for explanations, this wasn't quite what I had planned.

But then, nothing ever seemed to turn out as he intended it to. He knew all it would take was a slight tapping of Master Yoda's cane and the room would fall silent, so Anakin waited. Beside him, Obi-wan seemed to have fallen into a perplexed silence. But there was the smallest hint of a smile on his face, and Anakin could feel his friend's mounting elation through the Force.

In the few seconds the din continued, Kenobi turned toward him, eyes wide and hopeful. 'How?' he mouthed.

'I'm sorry' Anakin sent back, sending silently that this wasn't how he had wanted to tell his friend the news, that he had imagined the two of them alone, suddenly discovering all their years of being afraid, of preparing for the worst fight they had ever faced, maybe their last, would now never have to be faced. He had wanted that quiet moment of celebration between the two of them, who had lost so much because of the manipulations of one man, and had to struggle so hard to regain each other's trust and friendship. 'Just us.' He mouthed in return.

With an understanding shake of his head, Obi-wan smiled. It didn't matter now. They could have that moment later.

Above the voices, louder now as some of the Masters had stepped closer, the familiar tapping of Yoda's cane could be heard and Anakin sighed in relief as the room immediately quieted. Knights and apprentices fell back, hushed anticipation radiating from their part of the room, as Masters, clearly embarrassed by their own outbursts, shuffled robes and regained their composure.

"Incredible news, this is." Yoda remarked, somewhat unnecessarily, in the restrained calm that followed. "If true this is, a great day for the Jedi, for the Rebel Alliance, and for the people of the galaxy, this is. Much, we have, to be thankful for, if no longer living is the Emperor."

"_If_, said a voice in the back, "he's telling the truth. It could just be a trick by the Sith."

Before others could begin to mumble, Obi-wan's head snapped up. "Hold your tongue," he demanded. His voice was like ice. "Do not blame Jedi Skywalker if your own talents are so poorly trained that you cannot feel the truth of his words in the Force. The Emperor _is_ dead. And I will hear _no more_, from any of you, questioning Jedi Skywalker's loyalty, or honesty."

"Obi-wan," Anakin counseled, laying a hand on his friend's arm, "they have every right to be cautious of me. Tread carefully; I will not see you shunned by your fellows because of me."

"_Our_ fellows," Kenobi reminded him, but he remained tight-lipped and his cold eyes scanned the room for others who looked like they might speak out against his friend.

Despite gratitude for Obi-wan's unrelenting loyalty, Anakin knew the other Jedi would probably remain forever cautious of him; something for which he could not blame them. He had done plenty to earn their lasting suspicious, and nothing to regain trust. What was worse was the knowledge that how he came to learn of the Emperor's death could only be told to an extent, and his lack of being forthright would surely only convince some of their feelings toward the redeemed Jedi Knight.

"Jedi Skywalker," Yoda spoke again, looking earnestly up at him, his wise eyes suddenly sparkling with a new hope, a bright life that Anakin remembered as having been missing since the start of the Clone Wars some fifteen years ago. "Tell us, will you, of how coming to discover this wonderful news, you have? Hope, we all could use; Light, you have brought for us, in so dark a time. Ready are we, for so great a cause of celebration."

Before he was quite aware of what he was doing, Anakin knelt down on one knee, as close as he could get to being eye-to-eye with the smallest, most powerful of all the Jedi Masters he had ever known. Out of respect, no one he had ever known had ever knelt to speak with Master Yoda in the presence of others; as the master would point out, it was not size that mattered.

But Anakin felt himself to suddenly be nine-years-old again, a child in the face of the master's wisdom and age. He had seen things now that surely Yoda, if any of them, would understand. If any one of them were to believe him, it would be the eldest and most wise.

"Master," he stammered, forgetting the hostility in the room, "I have seen. . . I have _spoken_ with the spirit of a Jedi Master. One who, despite the years since his death, has not merged with the Force."

"Hmmm," Yoda nodded, a slight smile further creasing his wrinkled face, "with Master Qui-gon, who have spoken."

"What!"

Glancing up, Anakin found that if he had thought Obi-wan was pale at the announcement of the Emperor's death, he was a far ghostlier shade of white now than ever before. Again, regret reared up in Anakin's heart. This wasn't how he had wanted to tell his friend! Why did _nothing_ ever seem to go the way he wanted it to?

"You knew, Master?"

"Mmm, your guardian, Master Qui-gon has been, for many years now. Watching over you and Obi-wan both, he has. Spoken with him before your fall, I did, but heard from him since, I have not."

"Master Yoda," the demanding voice of one of the Masters spoke over the deafening surprise that washed over Anakin. Standing, he found the Master who he had previously found vaguely familiar to be the one who was speaking. A Master Gharlin if he recalled correctly. "Master Qui-gon has been dead for many years! It is not possible for this. . . this _Jedi Knight_ to have seen him. Surely you must not believe such a story."

"Believe it, I do." Yoda replied, solemn, chin slightly raised.

"What," Obi-wan croaked, finally able to find his voice, "what did he say? Anakin, what did Qui-gon say?"

Sympathy for his friend made Anakin want to take him aside, to tell him there was more, so much more that Qui-gon had said, that he would share with him later. Wanted to tell Kenobi that his old master had spoken fondly of his former apprentice, and that Anakin would tell him all about it, as soon as they had a moment alone. But not only could he not spare the time to offer this reassurance, Anakin sensed there would be little time in the near future for such a much needed conversation anyway. From here it would be to see High Command, and the deciding on a course of action.

This news was months old now. What military advantage they might have gained from it was completely lost. He could only hope that the splintering of the Empire would provide the Alliance with a chance to make some critical move before the individual warlords that would no doubt arise, grew too strong for the Rebels to handle. His and Obi-wan's private moment, it seemed, would have to come much, much later than he would have liked.

"Master Qui-gon informed me that the Emperor, Darth Sidious, has been dead for some months now." A collective hum of disbelief passed about the room. Months? How could months pass and they remained unaware of it? "We, the Rebellion, have noticed it," Anakin continued, finding himself becoming more and more confident as he spoke, the others listening intently as they never had when he was just another Knight in their Order. "We noticed the lack of patrols, the dwindling engagements, but we were unable to discover the reason behind the Empire's retreat. Slowly, they have been pulling back forces from their outer boarders, so that the fleets and their clone armies have been converging on the inner rim planets. Through what is probably tight control of the administration, anyone who might have personal or official contact with Palpatine, the Empire has managed to keep his death a secret. Even I, with the remains of what was once a Force bond between us, was unaware of his murder, only that he was no longer an overpowering presence."

Obi-wan, who hadn't been listening as intently as the others, probably thinking of his former master and the visit Qui-gon had paid Anakin, turned with sudden understanding in his eyes.

"The surgery," he said, looking startled. "When you had that seizure and Brie and I had to use the Force to heal you, that was when it happened; when you felt Palpatine's death and what was left of your bond was torn asunder, it must have caused a physical reaction that endangered your life."

Nodding, Anakin continued, "Palpatine's death was a sudden and violent one; he had no warning, no chance to escape. Some of you may have heard of the explosion that took place at the Imperial Pala- . . . at what is formerly the Jedi Temple, some months ago?" Heads around the room nodded, though some continued to look suspicious and uncertain. "That was it. The end of the Sith."

"Just like that." A voice, young, female, from the back whispered in astonishment.

"For now," A master added, looking around the room. "For now the Sith are gone. Skywalker," she looked toward Anakin, who met her eyes and did not flinch, even though he saw the death of her former Padawan learner in his memory. "As far as you know, had Sidious replaced you? Were there other Sith, or potential Dark Jedi that you were aware of."

Reluctantly, Anakin thought back to those dark years as the Emperor's 'friend' and then as his apprentice. Thoughtfully, he shook his head. "No. None that could possibly be as powerful as he, or I, or any other remaining Jedi. There _was_ a girl, a child with Force potential, that" he hesitated, remembering the death of Mara's mother, the way she had clung to her daughter and her eyes pleaded with him to show mercy, "that the Emperor intended to train as his personal agent. Mara Jade."

The master nodded, then turned to the crowd of knights and signaled at the three whom Anakin had heard agreeing with Obi-wan's idea of allowing familial bonds among the Jedi. A Chagrian male, and two female, a young human and a Umbaran, stepped forward.

"Ashia," she addressed the last, "you were headed to Coruscate before summoned here."

"Yes, Master." Ashia replied, her piercing gaze seemingly to burn into Anakin. He felt the urge to squirm. The Jedi was much younger than he was, but she seemed to see right through him. Then, surprisingly, she smiled. Her male companion, standing just behind, gave a solemn nod in his direction.

"When plans have been agreed upon with the Rebel Command, you and your companions will continue on. Find the girl, this Mara Jade. Bring her back to Thantina. Be on the look out for other Force-sensitive children the Emperor might have acquired since Jedi Skywalker left his service. Do whatever you must to secure their freedom." Ashia nodded and with a final, almost knowing look in Anakin's direction, melted back into the crowd.

"But how did it happen?"

Anakin turned, the young voice calling from the back of the room. In the corner, he could see the apprentices, younglings that had somehow managed to escape the Temple and were now well on their way to becoming Jedi Knights. The one who had spoken saw Skywalker looking at him and appeared to gulp, but didn't back down.

"Master Skywalker, you said the Emperor, that the Sith was murdered. How can someone as powerful as a Sith just be _murdered_, without warning? My master told me the Sith were very powerful, and it would take all of us to destroy them and their Order."

Somewhere in the room, Anakin knew from experience, there was a master groaning as his apprentice spoke so boldly and out of turn. With a grin, he recalled numerous times of knowing even as the words left his mouth that Obi-wan was mentally preparing yet another of his growing-up and behaving speeches he had heard so many of throughout the years. For this reason as well as the boy's forthright manner, Anakin instantly liked the child.

"Well, my young friend," he replied, grinning despite himself, "first, I'm afraid it is only Jedi Skywalker, as I am no Master." The boy instantly blushed and ducked his head in embarrassment. How well Anakin knew that feeling from his youth, even when he had only made the smallest of mistakes. "But you're right. It would seem nearly impossible for so sudden an event to take place, with no Jedi involved, and be successful. We are lucky the Force has been with us, as," he glanced remorsefully around the room, "there are few enough of us as it is."

"No Jedi?" Obi-wan looked at his sideways, for the first time questioning the reliability of such information. "Anakin, how is that possible? Who is responsible for the death of the Emperor if not a Jedi?"

And here was where Anakin felt himself hesitate. He wanted to be truthful with Obi-wan, as truthful as he had been with Padme. Of course he had intended to tell the whole story from start to finish to his friend, but that had been in private, without the audience of all the remaining Jedi listening so closely to his every word. As much as he had wished in his youth that the others of his Order had listened to him, _really_ listened to him, now he just wanted a moment alone, a moment he was ignored, to collect himself.

Because he couldn't tell them everything. Anakin didn't need the Force to know that Fett's sacrifice, if he had even seen it that way, was a private matter. The bounty hunter had probably acted out of self-motivated revenge for his father's death, and not out of concern from peace and justice in the rest of the galaxy. But then, even if he had, Anakin was certain the last thing Boba Fett would want was to be 

remembered as some sort of hero. The very idea would probably have been scoffed at by the young son of Jango Fett; both men were the type who scorned the higher ideals and were realists, doing what they thought necessary and nothing more.

Anakin was well aware just how much he owed Fett. He would have needed more time before he was ready to face the Emperor and not be afraid he might fall again, or would willingly place Obi-wan in that sort of danger, when he was so unsure of his own powers to protect his former master.

And even had they faced Palpatine at full strength, Anakin had no illusions about how the battle would probably have ended. He was willing to die in order to destroy the Sith, and rid the galaxy of the man who had so easily manipulated and betrayed everyone, even Anakin Skywalker, the lost and lonely little boy who had been looking for a friend. In the end, he and Obi-wan might have walked away from it, maybe not, but either way there would have been terrible sacrifices.

And Fett had saved him from that. Unintentionally no doubt; the boy – no, the young man – certainly had no reason to concern himself with the fears or fate of a pair of Jedi. And yet, he had died in their place, honorably, willingly, and taken the old crone with him, in one purifying blast of flame and scalding hot durasteel.

"It was a civilian," he said at last, looking about the room with what he hoped was gratitude and conviction in his eyes. "It was a suicide mission, and he knew it going in. I can tell you only that. I briefly met the young man, and am honored to have known him for even that long. If he was willing to take such a risk, make such a sacrifice for the galaxy, then we must remember him as best we can. As one of us. As a being fighting for his freedom from tyranny and oppression, from being manipulated. He is every one of us, willing to die to protect the people of this galaxy, and he is every person in this galaxy, wanting only to protect what he loves and longs to see continue, even if it means it does so without him."

In the silence that followed his unintentional speech, Jedi Masters and Knights alike, even those who had previously been doing their best to stare him down, looked to one another and silently nodded. Anakin noticed as one wiped the sleeve of their robe over their eyes, and Ashia and her friends reached for each others' hands.

A comforting hand came to rest upon his shoulder; Obi-wan, always by his side when he needed him. As one, the Jedi silently mourned and gave thanks for the being who had given his life for others.

Silently, Anakin hoped Fett forgave him, even as a small smile crossed his lips with the thought of the bounty hunter ever finding out about a gathering such as this honoring his passing.

"Speak of this with the Command, we must," Yoda's quiet voice broken the hush. "Much there is to do, much there is to plan. Discuss this, we must." Turning to Skywalker, the little master eyed the Jedi then gave a deciding nod. "Mention this, however, I think I shall not. Tell the Rebel Command, we will, that discovered the Emperor's death, only now have you, through meditating. Talk of . . .ghosts, doubt will they believe, I do." Chuckling, Yoda tapped his cane and dismissed the meeting.

Even as the old master made his way for the door, the other Jedi remained. Some eyed Anakin with suspicion, even hostility. Others looked upon him with admiration. Slowly, they began to filter out of the room, and Anakin had a small hope he might have a moment to speak with Obi-wan before having to meet with the High Command. He would have to find Padme beforehand, as it only seemed right she was there as well, and that meant finding someone to leave the twins with.

"Jedi Skywalker."

Realizing someone was speaking to him, Anakin turned to find Obi-wan looking expectantly at him, and next to his friend was Ashia and her companions. Despite the way her eyes seemed to scourge his soul, he tried to smile.

"Ah, Jedi Ashia. One of the few Jedi who agrees on changing the Code, if I overheard enough of the earlier conversation."

Much to his astonishment, the pale Jedi bowed in acknowledgement. She then proceeded to introduce her friends. They were all young, having only begun their training during the last years of the Order, and all smiling at him with so much respect, Anakin wondered if they even knew who he really was. They were old enough to remember the Hero With No Fear, but also young enough for the haunting image of Darth Vader to have faded into the misty fears that make up childhood nightmares.

"We were raised in the Temple," Ashia explained, "but the last years of our training were together, under the same master. There were so few in the beginning," her smile wavered only a little at this. "The three of us have been together ever since, fighting side by side."

"What Master Kenobi has suggested makes sense," the Chagrian, Reckin, added. "We are stronger together than alone, and if we do not reply too heavily upon each other, crippled when the others are not there, what harm could it do to have a permanent bond, one that goes beyond the companionship of Jedi?" He blushed, looking at their silent human companion. "I-I do not mean a relationship such as mated beings might have, a-a _sexual_ relationship," and here his blue skin turned a deep shade of violet. The human girl looked about to kick him and Anakin had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. "I am simply trying to say, a familial relationship would surely strengthen the bonds between Jedi, between ourselves and non-Force sensitives. It-it sounds like a good idea," he finished lamely, and once again Anakin was reminded of his younger self.

And with that reminder came a harsh warning.

"Yes, I agree. Bonds between Jedi, if true and strong, can be a great help." Anakin replied, looking to Obi-wan who was chatting with another master. Kenobi seemed to have gotten over the shock of Qui-gon's mystical appearance, but Anakin wondered what it could have cost his friend, to learn it was to Anakin that Master Jinn had appeared, and not his former apprentice. "But it can also lead you down a path you must be _very_ careful in walking."

When the others nodded, he directed his most serious glare at all three. "And if ever you wonder, if ever you feel yourselves start to make the wrong type of decisions based on those feelings, I would have you think of me, and what befell me. Yes, I am standing here today, a Jedi still, but it was not by luck, or because the Light will always triumph, as it has today."

"It was because of that man over there," he pointed at Obi-wan.

"It was because of my family. If you mean to be a family to each other, your first priority is to always keep the others safe. Safe from the Darkness. If you are willing to love, you must also be willing to let go, if the time comes for it, so as not to fall into the same trap as I did. You are Jedi, and as Jedi, you must fulfill your duty, no matter the consequences."

The faces around him had slowly turned grim at his words, but he could see that not only had they gotten the message, they were just as determined as they had previously been to stick together.

"Yes," Ashia said, then offered a small smirk, "Master."

In response, Anakin only rolled his eyes, then asked, "Tell me, Ashia, do you or your friends know anything about children?"

* * *

"How soon can you and your squadron be ready to fly out?"

"We'll need a day, at the least." Tash replied as he and Sabé walked through the base, heading back toward the hanger and the squadron he had recently agreed to fly into what could possibly turn into a suicide mission. "What a day that'll be. We still have to train with the X-wings, get everyone up to speed. In all likelihood, we won't be able to leave till the day after next."

The agent only nodded, but Tash could all but feel the tension radiating off of her. It was understandable, her need to tackle the situation as soon as possible.

At the end of the briefing, Sabé had explained that this was a voluntary mission in case Strike Squadron didn't feel up to it; at the suggestion, Tash's first instinct had been to deny it, but all things considered, it was only his guilt of passing the mission off to another squadron that had him agreeing to it. That, and he knew some of the best pilots were under his command; if any flight had a chance of accomplishing this mission, and making it out alive, it was Strike.

"No worries," he grinned, hoping his own nervousness didn't show through. "Everything will be up and running smoothly. I just wish one of the Jedi was going with us. High Command couldn't argue if you got General Kenobi to agree to – "

Sabé pulled up short. "Kenobi isn't to know anything about this. Is that understood?"

"Yeah, I just thought – "

"Obi-wan's not supposed to know anything about what?"

Inwardly, Sabé felt herself groan, and turned to face the curious face of her best friend. On any other occasion, she would have loved to see Padme again, after so many months of having to go without someone as familiar as her former queen to talk about everything with. Now, however, was certainly not the time. Padme had enough to worry about without knowing the Alliance now had _this_ to face.

Hoping to defuse the situation, Sabé ignored her friend for the moment and turned back to Tash. "Go on. Start making preparations and call me when everything is good to go."

Looking between the two women, Tash gave a solemn nod and disappeared around the next corner, making a beeline towards the hanger and the crew he had only a day to train.

When he had gone, Padme looked suspiciously at her friend. "Normally, I would be utterly thrilled to see you. But something tells me it's the time for cool heads and decision making, rather than ecstatic celebration. What's wrong, Sabé?"

The younger of the two tried a weak smile. "Nothing overly worrisome, Padme. Some of the newly returned Jedi want to join flight squadrons, but there are those who don't think we should take any unnecessary risks, especially with the Empire having retreated for the moment. It's just not something I feel Obi-wan should have to be bothered about."

The lie crossed her lips easier than Sabé thought it might. She had never been able to lie to Padme before, but her friend seemed to accept it almost immediately, a look of delight replacing the slight frown that had previously occupied it.

"Jedi! Oh, Sabé, tell me it's true! Master Yoda and the Jedi are here?"

Despite the gravity of the situation facing them, Sabé laughed lightly and took Padme's hands in her own. Seeing her friend again, so full of life and love, reminded her of all the things she had been storing up and longing to share. "Yes, Master Yoda and many others. Well, not as many as we would have liked, but enough for now. They're presently in a meeting discussing . . . well, Jedi things, I suppose. Obi-wan was very vague about it."

"Obi-wan?" Padme's eyes widened, suddenly worried. "Oh no. Anakin went looking for him! He was so excited to be back, he probably didn't even feel the presence of the other Jedi. What will they do when they see him?"

Sabé inwardly cringed, imagining the responses of the Jedi to the appearance of Darth Vader in their midst. Unlike those who were either close to him and his family, or members of the Rebel Alliance, the Jedi hadn't been around to see the changes in Anakin Skywalker and his slow, painful struggle with his inner Darkness. Feeling guilty, Sabé admitted to herself that she had been one of the last ones to forgive Anakin for his actions, more because of how they had hurt the young woman she thought of as a sister and less because of his involvement in the fall of the Republic.

But time, and Anakin's awkward and hesitant kindness he directed towards her, and the sympathy he had shown for her fledgling relationship with his former master had eventually won her heart. The last she had seen of him, he had been lying on the medic's stretcher, being carted off to the med center after an accident that nearly killed him. Since being away on numerous missions, she had heard nothing of him, and hadn't taken the time the night before to enquire of Kenobi what had become of his young friend.

Even as she longed to call ahead and warn Obi-wan that Anakin was on his way, Sabé fought the urge, knowing it was probably already too late, and instead offered a reassuring smile.

"You shouldn't, for even a moment, think Obi-wan would let anyone, even other Jedi, hurt Anakin. His presence may be unwelcome for the moment, but he's one of them now, whether they like it or not."

Padme nodded, her fears subsiding with the knowledge that her husband's brother would stand by his side, no matter the accusations the other Jedi might throw their way. "Look at me, all worried about Anakin when I know he's safe with Obi-wan. I should be asking about you, about what I've missed these past months. I have so much to tell you! You'll never believe what's happened. But first, I was looking for something for Luke and Leia to eat."

Slowly, despite herself, Sabé felt a grin tugging at her lips. Then it spread across her face, breathless and giddy where before there had been a weary concern. Somehow, no matter the situation, Padme always made her feel like everything was going to be alright. Here was someone who had dealt with similar trials, who had always been the braver, smarter of the two of them. Relationships and Jedi and Death Stars pushed aside, the world was always a better place with Padme there to talk to.

"Oh," she found herself saying, dragging the elder woman away to where they could talk privately, "I think I have a few goodies stored in one of my packs. Now, tell me _everything_."

* * *

Finding Padme didn't turn out to be all that much trouble. Really all Anakin and the three Jedi had to do once they arrived in the corridors leading to the private living quarters was follow the sounds of female laughter.

He had left Obi-wan back with the other Jedi. They hadn't had a moment to speak privately yet, but it might be for the best. There was too much to say.

Kenobi and Yoda were assembling the High Command, to whom Anakin realized with a sickening feeling, he would have to make a rather formal report. He had avoided Organa and Mothma the last time he had 'visited' _Home One_, but that was only because the rebel leaders had been far too busy to visit their favorite Jedi in the sick bay. It wasn't that he didn't like either of them, as individuals, but Anakin had decided to more or less swear off politicians as regular acquaintances.

"I am grateful that you agreed to this," he told the other Jedi as they neared where he could feel his children's presence. "My wife will want to attend the meeting, and I'm afraid the twins have yet to learn their mother's ability to behave themselves in a civilized manner while in polite company."

The human woman, Belav, who until now had remained silent, glanced at Anakin. "I assume that means their father doesn't attempt to act civilized."

Skywalker grinned. "I would, but I've rarely seen politicians attempt to do the same."

The door beeped to inform his wife someone was waiting outside, then slid open to reveal the plain but comfortable accommodations the Alliance offered. The quarters on the base were beginning to become as familiar as his room at home. Especially, Anakin noted with a weary, but amused sigh, with all the toys and coloring books spread across the floor.

Padme, who had been reclining on the couch, looked up as her husband entered and grinned in relief. "Anakin, I was worried."

"Why?" he quipped, enfolding the tiny frame of his angel in his arms. "So far, this trip hasn't involved any vengeful rebels, blaster fights or rushes to the medic ward." He glanced curiously around the room. "That is, none that I'm aware of. Are the twins are okay?"

"Oh, you know they are!" She smacked his shoulder, then called into the other room. "Sabé, come in here! Anakin is back, and all in one piece."

"See?" came the reply as the agent came around the corner, carrying drinks and bags of what Anakin could only imagine would send his children into sugar frenzies, "I told you he would be."

Her eyes settling upon him, Sabé came to a dead stop and just stared. It wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as when the Jedi had stared at him, and Anakin found he was able to take a willing step towards her and offer his hands, something between an awkward hand shake and an opening for a brief hug. Well, she _had_ hugged him the last few times she had come to visit. Hopefully the sudden change in his appearance wasn't too overwhelming.

The drinks and bags of treats were set down on a conveniently placed table, and slowly, Sabé turned back to her friend, her eyes searching his unmasked face. Hesitantly, she reached towards him, then pulled back.

"Padme," she managed, clearly shaken, "didn't tell me."

Quietly, Anakin wondered if there was accusation in that. He and Sabé had never had a private moment together to discuss his rather brutal treatment of her all those years ago, as she had defended her lady against the raging lust of a madman. For Anakin as well, the suit had seemed a type of punishment, and its removal a sign of forgiveness he had taken to heart. But for Sabé, the release from such an appropriate retribution might have come a little too soon, unwelcome.

But, as with all the women in his life, she surprised him. Her arms gently surrounded his tall frame, as though scared she might somehow break his new body, and squeezed. Gratefully, he wrapped his own arms around her and sighed.

"Oh, Anakin! How wonderful. I'm so happy for you."

"Thanks. It's good to see you again, too. It's been a while."

"Yes," the agent agreed, reaching for the bags she had discarded a moment before, letting Anakin help her with the drinks. "Padme was just beginning to fill me in on everything I had missed. I almost 

wish she had gotten around to your . . . well, transformation. It might have prepared me a little better. I'm sorry I stared."

"Don't be," he grinned, and loved the way it might her blush, just the slightest. Yep, his Skywalker charm still worked. "You don't think I didn't stare the first time I looked in the mirror?"

"Yes, but you've always been terribly vain."

"Um, excuse me," Padme giggled, enjoying the sight of her husband and friend getting along. "But there are Jedi standing in my doorway, and I don't know why."

"Oh, right, sorry. Ashia, Belav, Reckin, please come in." The Jedi stepped into the room and nodded courteously at the two women, then glanced about the room. They were clearly somewhat dismayed at the sight a single pair of children had made. Anakin recalled the way Belav had looked at Reckin when he had brought up mating, and hoped this might give her a better idea of what they were in for if the two decided to act upon their attraction. "Don't worry," he reassured the three, "the little monsters are presently occupied in the other room. With any luck," he glanced meaningfully at Sabé and the contents she had been intending to feed his children, "they will remain just as serene while you are watching them."

Nodding, the Jedi tried to make themselves comfortable among the battle zone that the room had become in the few minutes the twins had been on the base.

"Wait," Padme interjected, turning toward her husband. "While they're watching them? Anakin, I don't want any Jedi other than you or Obi-wan watching my children," she turned an apologetic look on the others, "Nothing personal, of course."

"Of course not. . . er. . ." Reckin looked clearly confused about what to call the wife of a Jedi, and Anakin realized he wasn't quite sure either. "Lady Skywalker," he finally decided upon, "but Master Yoda and Master Kenobi have gone to meet with Command, and Jedi Skywalker thought you would also like to attend. Don't worry, we'll have everything well in hand."

In response, the others in the room only chuckled.

"Very well then," Padme agreed, though reluctantly. "Give me a moment to change, Anakin, and I'll be right with you." Taking the dangerously sugared objects from Sabé, she disappeared into the back room.

Meaning to speak to the others about how best to handle the situation, Anakin was forced to swallow his words when Sabé grabbed his arm and more or less dragged him into the miniscule kitchen. Palming the door, she shut them into the total darkness.

In the silence, Anakin could hear both of their breathing rather loudly.

"Um, Sabé? Can we turn on a light? This feels rather . . . inappropriate. What are we doing in here, anyway?"

"I'm trying," she snapped, her hands brushing the wall in vain. Using the Force, Anakin reached out and flipped on the lights. From the look on her face, he wasn't the only one relieved. "Thanks. Anakin, I need to talk to you."

"Okay. But keep it short, as we have to be at that meeting." Taking a moment, Anakin thought about Padme changing, and no doubt putting her hair up. "Okay, maybe you have a little longer than expected, but speak quickly."

"I realize I should have asked ages ago, asked you or Padme, but there never was any time, and I never really thought it would ever make a difference. But now I've gotten myself into this, and I need to know where it could be headed. What to expect. And after all, who could possibly know better than you, of all people. Oh, Anakin, I would ask Padme, but what I need is your advice about what he might be feeling, and I'm sure not sure how to proceed –"

"Sabé," Anakin held up a hand to quiet the woman. His thoughts were in a whirl, mostly from the thought of having to speak before the council, but also from his recent encounter with a room full of Jedi, some of whom wouldn't mind slicing him in half. In short, he didn't have a clue what she was talking about.

"Please, I'm becoming terribly confused. What, exactly, is it you need help with? Are you in trouble?"

"I slept with Obi-wan."

Ah, Anakin's mind replied, even as it shut down completely. That would be a yes, then.

"Oh." he managed.

"And I love him. I mean, I'm _in_ love with him. Of course, you knew that before, I'm sure you all did. In fact, I think everyone but Obi-wan was well aware of it. It just took him so long to realize we could love each other. And now, it's just wonderful! A miracle even! I've never been so happy in my entire life. I just wish it hadn't taken as long as it did; we've lost so much time, what with the war…"

Her embarrassed rambling had given Anakin the time he needed to reboot his mind and get it thinking straight. He could understand her concerns, to an extent. He had had similar questions when he and Padme had secretly wed. Unlike Sabé and Obi-wan, there had been no one for him to turn to, to ask his questions.

Admittedly, he had seen this coming. Anakin had simply hoped it was Padme that Sabé or Obi-wan came to, and not he, Anakin, that they shoved into a darkened kitchen.

Who was he kidding? Like Obi-wan would ever ask for help about this sort of thing. Kenobi's relationship was probably doomed if Anakin didn't do something.

"It's not really a surprise he waited so long to tell you."

The happy glimmer in her eyes dimmed somewhat and Sabé sighed, leaning against his broad chest in search of comfort. "I know. Because his loyalties still lay with the Jedi. And their Code. And now I'm afraid he'll think he's made a mistake. Last night," she blushed, but continued, "he didn't even seem to notice there were other Jedi around, once he realized I was there. But now, things are different. His attention will turn to the Order, and what needs to be done. Oh, Anakin, I'm so scared. I don't want to loose him."

"You won't," he reassured her as best he could, gently brushing her hair as he might have Padme's. "I'll make sure of that."

"You're a good friend, Anakin."

"I try. Though, Obi-wan probably won't agree."

She pulled back away from him, looking mischievous. "Because you're going to help me keep my man?"

"And don't think it won't be hard work. We've got to make Obi-wan realize that there is nothing in this galaxy he wants more than you. You have to understand that despite all the heroic efforts on his part, all the wisdom gained, all his compassion and just the general, over-all beauty of that man's soul, Obi-wan has the tendency to be something of a pumpkin head."

"I can see that."

"Good," Anakin grinned, glad to have at least this little dilemma out of the way. "Now, we should probably get out of here before Padme palms open that door and finds the two of us in such a friendly embrace. We can't have her thinking you've got your heart set on the wrong Jedi."

Removing themselves as innocently from the tiny kitchen as they could, Sabé and Anakin rejoined the others in the main room. Padme appeared just as the kitchen door closed, and none of the other Jedi said anything. In fact, Anakin noticed, two out of the three looked like they had just been caught in the middle of a very private conversation.

"Right," his wife smiled, looking absolutely stunning and unquestionably official. "Shall we?"

"Why do you have to sound so excited?" Anakin asked, slightly irked as he took her arm and left the apartment. "This is a meeting with High Command, not some lovely gala. I'm going to have to stand up in front of everyone and tell them I had visions that informed me of the Emperor's death, for Force sake."

Sabé, following just behind and stopping dead in her tracks for the second time, managed to gasped out a 'what?' before Anakin, realizing his mistake, groaned.

It was going to be a long meeting.

* * *

Yes, I know, it wouldn't be safe for Ashia and the others to be headed toward Coruscate with the Emperor still alive (or so they thought). It was iconvenient/i, okay? But I had to get rescuing Mara in there somehow, without having to actually send the boys after her, as they've got more important things to be doing in the near future (nothing against any Mara fans out there; she's important, just, not now.)

Just curious, how does everyone pronounce Sabé's name? I always think of it as Sabe, rather than Sabé, and just put the pronunciation mark above the 'e' because it looks weird without it. Hearing Sab-ae in my head, (like we have Padm-ae, which is fine, because we hear it on the movies so it sounds fine to me) just sounds really odd, like it should be Japanese mustard or something.

:D More soon, hopefully. :D

Caslia


	46. Destiny, Thou Art a Fickle Creature: Ch4

O.O

A post.

I know; I couldn't quite believe it either.

Thanks to everyone for the replies. Sorry it's been so long between posts again.

SeanWH: I always thought it was Coruscant as well, but the EU books flip back and forth between that and Coruscate, like they can't get the numerous authors to agree on a single spelling for one of the most important planets. I'm glad _someone_ knew what I was talking about with the Japanese horseradish, because I asked everyone I knew and no one could figure out what I wanted to say. And you've written it Sabé with an 'a'; does that mean you think it's Sa-ba, or Sab-ae?

Bear with me when it comes to anything dealing with the Maw. I don't have my Planets and Locations book with me, and the databanks leaves much to be desired.

* * *

Chapter Eight:

_Destiny, Thou Art A Fickle Creature_

Four and a half years after _Rebirth of the Light. . ._

* * *

The light in the council room was muted, casting a drab shadow over the faces of those gathered in the room. The great bay windows that looked out over the nearby villages and grass fields would have let the golden fire of a quickly fading sunset wash over Anakin as he stood at attention, but someone had thought to pull the great red drapes closed and shut them all into the darkness.

In this heavy gloom, he quietly informed the Council of recent events, ever conscious of the Jedi Masters' and their weighed stares.

"And exactly how did you come upon such. . . wonderful news, Jedi Skywalker?" Bail Organa's question was phrased harshly, but his tone suggested he was more curious than accusatory. He was, as Padme had reminded her husband before the conference began, a friend of their family, and had been a long time. No need to feel like he was being hostile towards them.

Maybe then it was just the still-suspicious looks from some of the Jedi Masters, standing with Obi-wan and Yoda on one side the room, that had Anakin on edge. He stood in the middle of the room, unwanted center of attention, with the Council, backed by aids, generals, and his wife before him. The Jedi had gathered on the left side of the room, with rebels of different administrative positions in force on the right. The atmosphere, usually solemn and, it seemed to Anakin, tense, had turned into a buzzing confusion of whispers and sideways looks.

The meeting was going exactly as he would have predicted. The announcement of the Emperor's death had taken the breath right out of most the Council members. Mon Mothma, who had been standing when the Jedi entered and from there been conducting the conference, had slowly sunk into her chair and an aide brought her water. He had been pleased to notice that none of the Council 

looked to the other Jedi as of yet to confirm his story; they had come to trust him, a familiar face while these strangers had spent the last few years in hiding.

Among the Jedi, only the Masters were in attendance, as the apprentices and Knights hadn't the seniority in the Order to be present, their opinions on the matter unwanted. Anakin hadn't had the chance to ask what the Jedi's role was on the base. Clearly they were meant to be the vanguard in fighting the Empire, and probably expected to be privileged members of the Alliance allowed to attend the meetings of High Council members as they had with the Senators of the Republic.

Skywalker thought about how that probably wouldn't be the case. Honored they might be for their Force powers, these Jedi had given up their right to have such a strong hold in the decisions of the freedom fighters when they had left the Alliance on their own. Only Obi-wan had remained, despite the danger, to help the fledgling government. As Kenobi's friend, Anakin had earned his own place among the rebels. He had, after all, had a hand in bringing in the new recruits with his own deflection.

If he said the Emperor was dead, the Council would listen to him. If he suggested a course of action, they would seriously consider it.

He had earned respect. Anakin had admitted to his mistakes and taken responsibility for them. Thinking of how the Council, Organa and Mothma in particular, had then stood by him, how Brie and Solik and those in the Wards had accepted him, Anakin felt his previous confidence return. The Jedi might still try and stare him down, but he had proven himself.

"Meditation with the Force," Anakin offered in response to Organa's question. He knew the Jedi Masters all knew he was lying, but hadn't it been Yoda to suggest he offer a less . . . mystical explanation for how he discovered Sidious' death? They could hardly blame it on his past. "When a master takes an apprentice, the two form a bond between them, like a string that connects them across the distance. I had thought I had severed mine with the Emperor when I first came here to Thantina, but his death would explain a near mishap I had while in surgery some months ago. That was why I was unaware of the exact nature of the pain I sensed. Thus the Emperor has been dead for some time. The Force had to go out its way to inform me of this just recently."

"Well," a Council member nodded, no doubt trying to rationalize mysterious messages from an invisible power. "This does change things quite a bit. And explain the Empire's recent military maneuvers."

The others nodded. Mothma motioned to a young man Anakin remembered from previous meetings, Madine, who exchanged brief comments with the Council woman before stepping back. The solider glanced towards Sabe, who had taken position across the room from the Jedi Masters with the other military and administrative advisors. She nodded, but said nothing.

"I apologize for not having gained this knowledge sooner," Anakin added, not liking the look that had just been exchanged between his friend and the man. What else was going on he didn't know about? "I realize a great advantage has been lost, as no doubt the Imperial court will have reorganized itself without our having time to insert spies or planning a possible coup."

"We have spies within the works already," Bail assured him, "but even they remained unaware of this particular development. Development." And here he smiled, his usually stern face briefly giving way to the young man Anakin had met years ago at one of Padme's senatorial galas. It had been a long time since any of them had had a real reason to smile. "What a word for such a victory as this. We thank you for delivering this news, Jedi Skywalker. And there is no need to apologize. This Council hardly expects you to play the role of hero; you've done plenty for the Alliance as it is. You and your family. Perhaps the death of the Emperor will bring you and yours some peace at last."

It was said as much for the Masters to hear as to reassure Skywalker, and Anakin smiled gratefully at the Councilman in response. No doubt Bail had had received some silent signal from Padme on how to handle the situation. What would he ever do without that woman?

"Thank you, Councilman." He replied, bowing slightly.

"It's likely that even with the Imperial Court covering up the murder, there will be officers within the Fleet that will be aware of the shift of power." Another Council member spoke up. "They will attempt to grab some for themselves. We may have warlords on our hands before too much longer, if they haven't already staked out territory and are simply waiting for the official announcement to declare their claims."

Others around the room nodded and, glad the attention was no longer focused on him Anakin decided to move to a side of the room. The question was, which one? To the left with the Jedi, or right, where Sabe, Padme and other rebels waited? Why did even this have to be made into a struggle? He sighed and stayed put.

"But does this change any of our plans? If no one else in the galaxy is aware – "

"Precisely for that reason. Think of how people might react to such news. A galatic holo announcement might be just the thing to bring more aid to the Alliance."

"You forget it was only five years ago the galaxy was clamoring for Palpatine to take the throne. Better to use this silently to our advantage – "

"What advantage we might have had has been lost," the last council member sent an apologetic look toward Skywalker before continuing, "Best to strike we still have the chance. One emperor was a terror; imagine numerous ones as the Imperial admirals and aristocrats scramble for power."

"I think," Mon Mothma interjected, looking pensive but stern, "that this is a conversation best had once we have fully considered the situation and have all the information at hand. I move that we break for now. It's nearly the dinner hour and my aide informs me the dining hall is serving something resembling beef stew." This poke at the food broke some of the tension in the room, and even earned a chuckle from a few of the rebels in attendance. Everyone in the room seemed to relax and Anakin admired Mothma's ability to connect with the people around her. "Perhaps, after we've all eaten and regretted it, we might return. If the admirals and generals," she nodded toward the right side of the room, meeting the eyes of men, women and aliens in turn, "would bring with them their present information concerning resources and forces, we might have a better idea of what is available to us. Agent Ulin, please bring with you what your people have collected and analyzed."

Anakin was somewhat startled to discover she was speaking to Sabe. In all their time together, he was embarrassed to realize he didn't know her last name.

There was a general agreement around the room as other orders were given and aides scurried off to fulfill whatever duties they could before the next meeting. Padme returned to his side after a brief word with Bail.

"Excuse me, Councilwoman." The familiar voice of Master Gharlin interrupted the hasty retreat from the room. Mothma paused in rising from her seat, half turned to the Jedi. The look on her face said she had clearly wanted a moment after such incredible news to reorient herself, and that the delay did not please her. Nodding her consent, she waited for the master to speak. "Concerning these developments and Jedi Skywalker's visions, the Jedi request a brief conference with you and the Council."

The urgency of his request didn't seem to daunt her in the least. "Of course, Master Jedi. A conference will be held between yourselves and this council later, to discussion how best to Jedi might serve the Alliance and to hear any suggestions or requirements you have. Your wisdom and guidance are always welcome."

Master Gharlin bowed slightly, more a nod of his head, but didn't back down. The other masters behind him remained stiff and forbidding in their looks. "Thank you, but I meant presently, before the next meeting. This issue concerns the Jedi in an immediate fashion, and it would be best to share council before any course of action is decided."

Anakin, who had only been listening with half an ear as he made for the door, paused. Beside him, Padme tensed. In rather polite language, Gharlin was demanding a meeting with Council, out of the privileges held by Jedi in the Republic to have a commanding hand in the decisions of politicians. Mothma's baring hadn't changed, but Bail, standing beside her, had a look on his face that said how little he appreciated this offering of advice. Even Obi-wan, who had been called upon, and sometimes inserted himself intentionally into Council matters over the years, had always been aware of his place as far as the Council's opinion on Jedi were concerned. Perhaps the return of the Jedi was not as welcome as everyone had first thought.

"Master Jedi," Mothma's voice was soft, a warning that set Anakin's spine straight. It would do little good for the Jedi to earn the displeasure of a second government. "We have heard the council of the Jedi. Master Kenobi and Knight Skywalker have offered most welcome and wise advise over the years. We are well aware of the Jedi's opinion on this matter, as well as their involvement. It will be taken into account." Then she turned, ever so slightly, to Obi-wan. Though his expression remained still, Anakin could read the apprehension in his former Master's frame.

"Master Kenobi," Mothma said, nodded in acknowledgement, "I assume you will be attending the council meeting this evening as usual?"

"Yes, Councilwoman."

"Good." In her manner that stated everything was settled and closed for discussion, the leader of the Alliance nodded and rose. "The guidance of the Jedi is always welcome. The Alliance would surely be lost without all these noble knights have done for us other the years. Master Kenobi will remain the Jedi representative to the High Command. You may speak with him about any other issues you would like to bring before the council. Individual meetings can be scheduled when necessary. For now, I believe we would all like to adjourn for dinner." Having retrieved her datapad from an aide, Mothma looked to Organa and together, they stepped down from the dais and made for the door.

And just like, the Jedi had been removed from any true position of power. They had been separated from command, from positions as political councilors, generals and commanders. Even Obi-wan title of general had, unofficially, just been removed. Considering it had been their involvement with the political machine rather than the populace that had helped the limping Republic into the hands of the Sith, Anakin found surprise melting into relief.

Mothma had made the right move, even if the atmosphere in the room had turned awkward and the Masters shared irritated and confused looks between themselves. A few among them had nodded when the Councilwoman spoke, others exchanged words with Obi-wan, who seemed as relieved as his friend. It may mean more work for Kenobi, but they had both agreed in the past that a distance would need to put in place between the new Order and the Alliance.

The Jedi were here to serve the people of the galaxy. Not their leaders.

"Anakin," Padme was at his side, tugging on his arm.

He smiled down on his wife, took her hand in his. Whatever the Council might decide, or the Jedi, after they had time to discuss the conference with Master Yoda and others, the threat of war pulling them apart seemed to lessen day by day.

"I'll admit, that wasn't nearly as long or as painful as I imagined it would be."

"That's because you only had to deliver the news," his wife informed him. "Imagine later tonight, when Obi-wan has to meet with all of the council, with the full force of military advisors and informants, administrators. . . "

Anakin groaned in sympathy.

"Come on," She tugged again on his arm. "We can make it better for him by dragging him back to our quarters and serving up the closest thing to home-cooked food this base has to offer. We can at least send him in properly fed. I'll grab Sabe if you'll pull him out of the throng of Jedi demanding his attention."

Smiling, Anakin kissed her before pulling away. "Always thinking of others, Angel."

She disappeared into the crowd that was slowly dispersing for dinner. Squaring his shoulders and turning toward the gathering of Jedi, Anakin picked Obi-wan out of the crowd of brown robes and made toward him.

* * *

The council meeting wasn't the only one going as poorly as expected.

After the initial report, Tash stood waiting, hands on his hips and mouth set in a grim line as the pilots around him attempted to comprehend the information he had just given them. In countless briefings before this, he had witnessed their staunch determination against impossible odds, willingly diving into dog-fights where few of their number had a chance of return. It was a part of fighting an up-hill battle, of being one of the Alliance's top squadrons. But briefing them on something like this was all-together new, and frightening.

Not for the first, Tash wondered if he was asking too much of his comrades; if the Alliance was asking too much of all of them.

"Captain, you sure about this?" One of them finally asked, his eyes scrutinizing the holo of the partially constructed Death Star floating in the middle of the briefing room. "I mean, look at it? How much damage could a thing like that really do?"

"Enough that High Command has got us shipping out in only a few hours."

"A single squadron?" A young man asked, his voice accented with the clipped tones of the Core Worlds. He was fresh off the recruit roster, only having been with the squad a few weeks. But like many others of Drifter squadron, he had a sparkling previous career on a planetary police force. "Captain, no disrespect, but this seems like collective suicide. Surely we should be flying under the command of a battle fleet, with numerous squadrons and droid ships and, if at all possible, Jedi. But alone? Against _that_?"

Tash's grim expression gave way to an even grimmer look of forced amusement. "You sound a little nervous there, Piett. Not feeling up to it?"

Piett went stiff and his amazed expression dropped away to be replaced with indignant determination. "No, sir." The others shifted uncomfortably in their seats, clearly thinking the same thing about the mission but unwilling to admit it and sound as inexperienced as their squad mate.

Tash nodded in understanding. "Look, I feel the same as you all do. That this appears at first to be a lot to ask that we go it alone. But there's a reason for it. High Command wouldn't send us without backup fire if it were at all possible. That's partially why we got those new, shiny fighters out there. We're going to need all of the maneuvering power those babies have got; and here's why."

He popped in a second holo disk into the podium and watched the faces around him as the exact location of their target filled the small room.

Fortunately, Agent Ulin had prepared them with a detailed path to follow, so it wasn't like they were flying in blind. Somehow, Tash knew that wouldn't be as reassuring as she had meant it to sound, given the make-up of their destination.

"The Maw?" His female Twi'lek pilot, Fashar, demanded. "They're sending us into the _Maw?!_" She looked around at the other members of Drifter squadron, some of whom had similar expressions of disbelief on their faces and shook her brain tails. "Nuh-huh, Captain. I demand that whatever committee met and came up with this crazy scheme reconvene and come up with a less likely way to get some of their best pilots killed."

A clambering of agreement sounded around the room and Tash had to quickly step in and take command again.

"Look!" He said over the noise, his voice taking on the tones of a leader. Too bad this was one mission he didn't want to lead. "This wasn't the decision of some bureaucratic committee. Most of High Command isn't even aware that this operation is taking place." With his organic eye, he pinned Fashar to her seat. "Some of our best _agents_ died for this information, and since Drifter squadron has been chosen to see that this. . . this abomination is destroyed before the Imps get around to using it, I intend to see to it."

Around him heads nodded, even as pilots exchanged uncertain looks and blew out breaths that spoke volumes of how nervous each one was.

In the back, and hand went up.

"Uh, Captain? Just what _is_ the Maw?"

"It's the equivalent of us diving head-first into the mouth of a Hutt," someone muttered. Tash chose to ignore that comment, no matter how correct the assessment.

"The Maw," he explained, "is a galactic anomaly. It is an area of space that could possibly hold several planetary systems. Instead, it contains a massive field of black holes. Equipped with the right sensors, navigational systems and ships designed to easily maneuver in narrow spaces, experienced pilots, such as ourselves," he nodded encouragingly about the room, "have the odds on our side that we can fly through without too much trouble. If we run into any – "

"Such as nearly getting sucked into one of those japing voids that stink of Hutt slime," Fashar added.

"Those X-wings have had boosters grappled onto the sides," Tash continued, "which we can use to accelerate away from a hole's gravitational mass. Just slam down on the throttle and hit the thrusters on whatever side you feel the pull. Should do the trick."

Tash looked around the room again. He was proud to see that despite this additional punch to the stomach, most of his pilots were looking pretty calm about the situation.

Well, most of them, anyway.

"What's a matter over there, Piett? You're lookin' kinda green."

* * *

Anakin caught up with Obi-wan as the Jedi were leaving the conference room. He hung back at the edges of the small crowd, not wanting them to feel like he was intruding, especially after they had been so easily dismissed from any position of power within the Alliance. Most ignored him as they shuffled out the door, heads bent in consultation, but a few looked up and offered welcome, if not warm, smiles.

Master Gharlin was not among them.

"Jedi Skywalker," he spoke above the others. He stepped off to the side and Anakin, hesitantly, joined him and inclined his head in greeting.

"Master."

"A most unexpected turn of events. For over ten thousand years the Jedi have had a hand in the politics of the galaxy. Now, just as our ability to protect the people has been taken away, so has our right to have a voice in the decisions of the galaxy's potential leaders."

Anakin opened his mouth to disagree, even as he knew this was a lost argument, when another voice spoke first.

"The Jedi can never be forced to stop protecting and aiding the people, Master," Obi-wan interjected. "Our means may be limited, our actions may require more stealth and our methods may be revised. But we can always offer aid, and for that matter advise. It is merely the spirit in which these things are offered that encourage others to accept and make use of them."

The older Jedi frowned, but inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"Well spoken, Master Kenobi. Diplomatic, as fitting the prize pupil of Master Yoda. The Alliance Council has clearly chosen the wisest among us to act as representative of the Order and its concerns."

If Obi-wan took note of the slight in Gharlin's words, he chose to ignore it. Anakin admired the ease with which Kenobi simply let the others words roll off his shoulders. A trait, he silently admitted, that had not passed on to his apprentice.

"If you have a moment, Master," Skywalker turned to his friend, hoping the elder Jedi Master would take his lowered voice as a signal that this had become a private conversation, "I would like to speak with you."

"Of course."

"We'll see you in the mess hall, then, Master Kenobi." Gharlin stated, obviously forgetting to include Anakin in his dinner reservations.

Somewhere inside, Anakin felt that old possessiveness sparkle to life. He hadn't felt it in a long time, but then, it had been many years since he had to share Padme with the Senate or Obi-wan with other 

Jedi. Admittedly, he knew instantaneously that such an emotion was dangerous for him. Fear of loss had played a grand enough roll in his past that its rebirth in him triggered an immediate internal Kenobi lecture about jealousy and attachment.

The more mature part of Anakin knew that he would have to accept the occasional absence from Obi-wan in his life, as he had over the past few months. The other half of him, the part that relied upon his brother, argued that he didn't have to give him up quite so soon, and not to this particular Jedi Master.

"Padme had just finished making a fine stew when I interrupted her cooking to attend the conference. No doubt she's expecting us." Anakin watched as his former Master glanced at Gharlin.

"I'm sure Lady Skywalker has developed quite the skill of preparing the most delightful cuisine, considering her years spent as mother and wife." The remark hit home where the others had been mere glances and Anakin heard his teeth grinding. "Far above what the mess hall has to offer, I'm sure. However, we have business to discuss."

Gharlin reached out a hand, intending to steer Kenobi away.

"Actually," Obi-wan offered the other Jedi a dry smile and stood with feet planted beside Skywalker, "I have obligations to dine with family tonight, Master. But thank you for the offer. No doubt Master Yoda will wish to hear what went on in the Council meeting. We can talk then."

Together, Anakin and Obi-wan offered bows to their senior Jedi, turned, and made down the hallway before Gharlin could offer any further objections.

"Anakin," Obi-wan admonished as the two headed for a corridor that would take them out of the hills that housed the base and into the open light of the fields, "such demonstrations of attachment are not helpful."

Anakin decided it best to look mildly hurt. "Master, _I_ wasn't the one who essentially told him off. Besides, you only want to come to dinner with us because you know Sabé will be there."

The blood rushed to Obi-wan's face so fast, Anakin thought for a moment his friend might pass out from the experience. His embarrassment was further confirmed by a brief clenching of the jaw and the audible swallow that followed it. It was all Skywalker could do not to laugh right there in the hallway. That would be rather embarrassing for his former master, seeing as they weren't the only ones currently occupying it. He settled for a tightly controlled smirk instead.

Formidable Jedi powers of control coming to his aid, Obi-wan's voice was unflustered when he spoke a moment later. "And I thought Master Gharlin's comments contained poisonous barbs. Surely you don't think I would ever pass up a quiet evening with you and Padme, especially when such chances for tranquility and comradely have been sorely missing from my life recently."

"Or good cooking for that matter." They turned down yet another hallway, palming another of multiple doors. A brief shadow passed over the younger man's features. "In all seriousness, Obi-wan, I did wonder if you wouldn't have rather spent time in the company of other Jedi."

"You don't consider yours to be enough?"

"It's not that." He had, partially. It might even explain that small flare of jealousy. If Obi-wan found it comfortable to spend time with other Jedi, as they both had in the old days, he was more likely to gravitate to them in the future. Anakin felt childish for thinking it, knowing his friend would immediately admonish him for such a thing, but the thought was there anyway, taking up residence in sinister, still un-banished shadows. "The light of the Jedi used to illuminate so much of our lives. We 

shared a common bond with others of the Order, felt their presence in and around us. It has been many years now that enough Jedi have been together to create that sense in the Force. It was muted and tense in both conferences, a fault due to my presence, I'm sure. I doubt it would be quite so strained at dinner."

"Maybe," Obi-wan allowed.

"But?" Anakin pressed.

Kenobi turned and offered one of those rare, full smiles, the kind that lit up their bond and made Anakin feel both silly for asking and grateful for the answer.

"But as long as it has been since I've shared a meal with numerous other Jedi, it seems even longer than that since you and I have had a moment together. Taking advantage of this chance is far more important to me."

Warmed, Anakin walked silently beside his master for a time after that, content. Up ahead, a final door slid open and the two stepped out into the light of a bright sunset.

Off in the distance, the nearby village sat peacefully amid the shadow cast by trees that grew scattered about the Thanatian fields. It was too far away to see if anyone was out visiting before the warm rays gave way to evening shadows. Still, Anakin felt close to the people who lived and toiled the fields of this planet. When he finally left, to attend to the needs of the Alliance as a Jedi Knight, he would miss their earthy ways and easy acceptance.

They filled his heart with a wholesome sense of belonging that he hadn't found among the Jedi until the last years of the Republic.

Seeing his friend lost in thought, Obi-wan took the moment to observe Skywalker. It had been some months since they had been together, not since the weeks following the last of the surgeries. Then, Anakin had glowed with his old eagerness, the almost reckless youth had shown in his restructured features. Now, Kenobi noticed, that had given way to something new.

It was a calm steadiness, a determined, if not certain attitude and an appreciation of his skills that had been lacking in his years as Obi-wan's Padawan. Though he still could not stand still, the elder Jedi noticed, hands fidgeting at his sides, it lacked the feverishness energy that had characterized his earlier appearance. The Knight determined to prove himself had matured into a Jedi to make any Master proud.

And he was. Obi-wan felt the emotion flood him, the pride he held for this young man, the love that had grown over the years until there was no word in any language that could properly name it.

And he knew, even without the aid of the Force, that it was the same emotion his own Master felt for the boy. And perhaps for Obi-wan as well.

Thought of Qui-gon Jinn had never come easily to Obi-wan. Over the years he had been quick to banish anything more than a fleeting memory or comparative observation of his old master. It had been too hard to think of him, too painful. For all that Obi-wan admonished his young charge over the years about attachment (and those times had been many and rarely far between) he had given himself just as many lectures where Skywalker was concerned. The price of loosing someone was almost too high for him to bear.

He had had to face it with his master, and then with Siri. Both had left him reeling when they had been torn from him, all impression of them stripped from the galaxy since Jedi left little behind them in the way to be remembered. Of the young woman with whom he had shared his years as an 

apprentice, he had only their shared memories and her lightsaber, the crystals of which he had given to Anakin.

Of his master, he had only the bitter pain of loss, and this boy, who had grown into a man they could both be rightly proud.

It made sense then that Qui-gon would appear to Anakin. More so, when Obi-wan thought about Anakin's status as Chosen One. If the old Jedi had something as important to impart as the death of the Emperor, who would he go to other than the man chosen to balance the two sides of the Force and restore peace?

That didn't mean it hurt any less, of course.

"I nearly died of shock, you know?" Anakin interrupted his heavy thoughts.

"Did you?"

Obi-wan didn't bother to ask how Anakin had known he was thinking about Qui-gon. The look on his face had probably said enough, and his former apprentice had always had a way of placing his ear against Kenobi's heart and hearing the most painful, most secret of murmurings. Most of the time, he hated the way Anakin could so easily talk about what he considered to be rather private matters. Occasionally though, the pain outweighed his sense of self-preservation and he would simply let his apprentice talk till he could bear it no more.

"A ghost showed up in the middle of a rain storm and invited me into my own living room to get dry. How do you think you would have reacted?"

"What were you doing in a rain storm?"

Anakin winced visibly and immediately Obi-wan felt his brows knit together. He hadn't seen that look, felt those emotions from Anakin for some time. Not since before the surgery.

"Anakin, is there something you'd like to tell me?"

Briefly, Anakin explained the thoughts that had driven him out into the rain, Luke's appearance and the conclusions that had led him to nearly forcing himself into his son's mind. It all sounded so unbelievable now that Anakin felt the old shame wrap around his heart again, squeezing in a familiarly painful way.

When he was done, Obi-wan took a moment to silently assess his answer, then laid the comforting hand on Skywalker's shoulder.

"In this instance, best to look at it as what is done is done, and what didn't happen simply _didn't_ happen. No point beating yourself up about it."

"You would not being saying that if Master Qui-gon hadn't intervened."

"No," Obi-wan agreed. "But why torment yourself with things that didn't and won't happen? Honestly, Anakin. Sometimes I worry that you take this repenting thing a little far for your health."

That earned a meager grin from Anakin's dower face. "Perhaps I should have Medic Brie check me out while I'm here. Would that put your worries to rest?"

"Oh, my young friend. How quickly you forget that it is _you_ who are overly worried. I am just offering the necessary amount of comfort and concern."

The warm reassurance bolstered them both for another few moments before Anakin decided it best to turn back to the other issue at hand. Somehow, this had become all about him again when what he really wanted to talk about was Obi-wan and his relationship with the Jedi Master who had taken them both in.

"I very much wished you could have been there."

Obi-wan sighed, just enough that it told Anakin there was a deeper pain there that his former master would probably refuse to speak about. "As do I. But as it were," he smiled, "of the two of us, it is best he came to you, and with such good news."

Anakin brushed this easy reassurance aside. It rang hollow, too much like the words of the Great Negotiator and too little like Obi-wan Kenobi.

"He said he worried about you, you know. Worried that you still had the tendency to get yourself into trouble and require me to come running with all haste to your rescue."

The corners of Obi-wan's mouth tweaked upward underneath his beard.

"He did not."

"He did so. Master Qui-gon said he had been watching us, for a long time. Watching over us both, doing what he could to aid and comfort." With the shimmer growing in his friend's eyes, Anakin began to shuffle his feet, feeling both overjoyed and embarrassed. "I got the feeling there was more he wanted to say, but not the time for it."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Obi-wan force a nod.

Anakin felt a similar lump form in his own throat.

"I always thought that maybe he and Mom, that maybe they were watching over us. But I never knew how close he was. Luke waited so long to speak, and I always thought it was partially my fault. That maybe there was something as a father I wasn't providing. Human touch, because of the suit. But then Master Qui-gon told me that it was the Force."

Obi-wan was looking at him now, confused, but still listening intently.

"Luke's connection with the Force was strengthened by Master Qui-gon's presence," Anakin explained. "They're connected. Through Qui-gon, Luke has been seeing things, the past, possibly the future, or what could have been. Together, they've been shielding us from Palpatine." He paused, took a breath, smiled even as he was held by other, more prominent emotions. "Obi-wan, Master Qui-gon has been with us all along. He never left. He's been watching over you, and me, since that day on Naboo. He's still here. And I know, the next time, you'll see him too."

After a shaky breath, Obi-wan managed another nod and offered a wavering smile.

"So then," he finally forced out. "The announcement of the Emperor's death, the conclusion of the prophecy and the mystery of young Luke's silence solved all in one night. It is a wonder the girls slept through it."

Despite the emotions rolling between them, Anakin chuckled. "Well, probably that was for the best. Can you imagine Padme's reaction to finding Master Qui-gon in her living room?"

"Considering her training as a senator, her first reaction, after overcoming the initial shock, probably would have been to play the hostess and offer him tea."

They grinned and the moment felt lighter.

"So, what now, Chosen One?"

"Ah" Anakin sighed, "Chosen One no longer, Master. Free of that stupid prophecy and everything that it required of me. A relief in some ways, to know everything we thought we were preparing for, that final confrontation with the Sith, will never come to pass."

"Yes," Obi-wan agreed, his demeanor turning serious once again. "But I worry at the ease of it."

"Ease?! Obi-wan, after everything we've been through? After the war and the crumpling of the Republic? After the death of so many Jedi and then Mustafar? Where was I when any of this was easy?" Anakin demanded half jokingly.

The elder Jedi chuckled.

"Reclining in some Nabooian palace with your secret wife, no doubt."

"Ah yes," Unable to help it, Anakin felt an evil grin spread across his face. "Secrets when it comes to women. That reminds me of another topic for discussion."

"Oh?" Kenobi asked, attempting to look innocent.

And failing miserably, Anakin decided.

"When, exactly, did you intend to tell me about Sabé?"

The elder Jedi looked decidingly uncomfortable and shifted slightly from foot to foot. He kept his eyes on the distant horizon and the sunset did a fine job of hiding the red shading of his cheeks. But Anakin didn't need his eyes to tell him Obi-wan was embarrassed. If the other thought he was just going to let the subject drop, however, he was out of luck.

"Anakin, do be reasonable. You've know about my feelings for Sabé for quite some time now."

"Sure. I knew you planned romantic dinners that ended up being only for one, and that they two of you liked to sit about in my kitchen holding hands when ever she returned from a mission. I even knew you cared about her enough to make you shuffle about the house, brooding for weeks."

"I would hardly consider it brooding."

"I wasn't finished." Anakin admonished. "But as your best friend, I would have thought you would have told me you were in love with the woman. Honestly, Obi-wan; she shoved me into my wife's kitchenette in our base quarters to secretly confide in me and ask for advice. Its obvious you need some help and I should have been the first person you came to, rather than mulling it over by yourself and probably making a mess of it."

"I thought it was rather obvious. I've never. . . never _hidden_ my intentions." Looking completely flustered, Obi-wan began to fidget with his hands and Anakin got quite the evil thrill from it. "Besides," 

he muttered, sounding like Anakin imagined he must have time and again as an apprentice feeling put-out, "you never told me about your marrying Padme. I hardly think its fair you lecture me on 'secret' relationships."

While his former master had him there, Skywalker wasn't about to admit it. After all, the circumstances had been different.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it. She's obviously decided your good enough for her, and when it comes to women, as long as they can delude themselves about that, you just have to make sure you don't do anything to screw it up. That is," and here Anakin felt the first real concern about Sabé and Obi-wan's relationship, "if the Jedi don't find out about you two before they decide whether or not to allow relationships."

"Actually," Obi-wan offered, "Master Yoda has already given us his blessing."

Laughing, Anakin took his friend, still flustered from the conversation, by the arm and led him inside before they would be late for dinner.

* * *

Caslia


	47. Destiny, Thou Art a Fickle Creature: Ch5

Sorry it's been so long between posts again. I more or less convinced myself that I am too old now to be writing fan fiction and should focus on more serious issues. And for the past eight months or so, I had completely convinced myself. At the moment, my goal is to simply write all the rest of this story, and then post it up in sections, just to get it finished. It was weighing on my conscience and I couldn't simply walk away leaving it incomplete after working on it for so long.

So, here's hoping I get the majority of this story completed and you get to actually find out what happens. Obi-wan has a minor surprise coming his way, we might actually have a battle scene (a first for this fic), Anakin is going be tempted to power once again, etc. So if there is anyone out there still reading this after so long, hopefully you will find the next chapters worth the wait.

Just a brief reminder, this story doesn't follow GL's version of Ep. III, and I am playing with allowing the unlikely to happen, such as Boba Fett killing the Emperor and little Luke having special knowledge of the Force and the future. Also, in case you've forgotten, at some point this story has become plagued with OC's, but OT and Prequel and book characters continue to show up as well.

* * *

Chapter Eight:

_Destiny, Thou Art A Fickle Creature_

Four and a half years after _Rebirth of the Light. . ._

* * *

Dinner was going well, Anakin decided. The food was delicious, the twins were behaving themselves, and so far, the conversation hadn't been interrupted by any code-red situations.

Padme had offered for the other three Jedi to join them, but an hour watching the twins while their parents attended the earlier Council meeting had Reckin and his companions graciously but firmly declining.

"I don't know what they're complaining about." Sabe said as she passed a plate of mashed tubers around the table. "For children with so much power, I think Luke and Leia are very well behaved."

Obi-wan shrugged. "Reckin, Ashia and Balev are young enough that they probably hadn't reached the age as padawans that they were expected to help the youngling at the Temple. It's unlikely they've been around Force-sensitive children for any great length of time. We're all learning to adjust to having other Jedi in our lives again."

"Well, they're just going to have to get used to it." The agent replied. "I think it would be wonderful if there were lots of children like Luke and Leia running around." She quickly reached for her cup and took a large swallow. "I mean, the Jedi Masters will surely find children to train, won't they?"

"And," Padme added, missing her friend's embarrassment, "if the Jedi do decide to throw out the rule of no attachments, I suppose Jedi like Reckin and Ashia could have children on their own."

"Imagine that. What do you think, Obi-wan?"

"What?" The Jedi Master raised an eyebrow, a silent refusal to be goaded.

Anakin, who had so far stayed out of the conversation by monitoring his son and daughter's eating habits, grinned. "Yes, Obi-wan. What do you think about Jedi children?"

Playing it safe, the Jedi lowered his head and focused on cutting another bite. His brow furrowed in a way that told his former apprentice that Kenobi was thinking of how to deal with this sensitive matter without actually having to become involved. Pushing peas onto his fork, he smiled that knowing, sly Kenobi smile and spoke before slipping the vegetables between his lips.

"Leia and Luke are a gift from the Force."

Sabe frowned. "That didn't answer my question. What do you think about other Jedi having children?"

"Well, I suppose if the Order decided to remove the rule against attachment, then there are those who might choose to have relations and children might result. And I am not against attachment. Considering the past few years, I feel that would be a little hypocritical on my part." He smiled, but Sabe continued to frown, her look silently condemning.

Padme glanced back and forth between her two friends. "Did I miss something?"

"No, dear." Anakin replied, reaching down to pick up his son's repeatedly dropped spoon. Luke took it from his father and went back to scooping up his peas with relish. Leia, thinking her parents didn't notice, had been slipping her own vegetables onto her brother's plate.

"Leia, sweetheart, you need to eat those. They're good for you."

"Then why aren't you having any, Daddy?"

"Because grown-ups don't always know what's good for them, Leia." Sabe replied. "And sometimes, they do, but they decided not to eat their peas anyway." She was still frowning at Obi-wan.

Shrugging, the elder Jedi reached for another roll. "What do you want me to say, Sabe? The Jedi Order will take time to rebuild. The Emperor may be dead, but the Empire is still in control of the galaxy. Isn't this a conversation a little early to be having, and perhaps a little too private for the dinner table?"

Cheeks burning, Sabe clenched her plastic silverware and for a moment, it looked as though she might lunge across the table with them.

"Of course," she ground out. "You have your responsibilities."

"As do you," he reminded her, but Obi-wan could see that he had offended and embarrassed Sabe. He looked to Anakin for aid, but the other Jedi just shook his head.

Ever the diplomat, Padme stepped in to salvage the conversation. "So then, a meeting with the High Council tonight, and then what? Ever since our ranks have swelled, we have had enough fighters, personnel and supplies to make the Rebellion a serious threat to the Empire. Perhaps it is time we strike, before any single war lord accumulates too much power."

"Any strike would be risky," Anakin countered. "We can hardly attack any of the core worlds. Coruscant would be suicide."

"Somewhere in the Outer Rims?" Sabe offered coolly.

"To what end? What isn't owned by the Hutts and other organizations is only of minor interest to the Empire. We lay claim to, say, a few sectors and then what? Go off to fight for a system and the Empire or the Hutts just come in and fill in the gap we've left open to them."

"Strategic strikes then, like we've been doing for the last few years." Padme sighed and shook her head. "Even now, with so many resources and the aid of the Jedi, I feel as though we are hardly gaining any ground."

"We're getting there," Anakin replied, taking her hand in his and squeezing gently. "We just have to have faith, and keep pushing forward. When this war does end and the Empire is replaced by whatever type of government the High Council has in mind, we might not be the ones to enjoy it. It might be up to Luke and Leia to nourish the peace we win for them." Padme nodded and raised their joined hands to lightly kiss her husband's knuckles. "We have to put our faith in the Force, and, for the moment, in the High Council."

Obi-wan quietly cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with his table linen. "Yes, well, at the moment I think the Council is probably just as disorientated as the rest of us. It will be interesting to see what they have to say."

"And even more interesting to hear what the Jedi have to say about the Council's decision," Anakin said knowingly.

Kenobi nodded. "I will be meeting with Master Yoda and Master Gharlin after this next conference."

"Poor darling," Padme sighed and patted her friend's shoulder reassuringly. "You are never going to be allowed to rest tonight, are you?"

"I fear my responsibilities will not allow it." Obi-wan replied, staring fixedly at Padme. Anakin glanced at Sabe, but the other woman had turned her attention to the twins. Not her full attention, but the message was clear to leave her alone. Both she and Obi-wan seemed to excel at being passive-aggressive. "You know," he added, "Anakin, you should come to the later meeting as well."

"Me? Thank you, but I've already met with the Jedi Order once today."

"It will only be the four of us. Master Gharlin is one of the oldest remaining Jedi Masters. Yoda and I are the only members of the Jedi Council left." He looked slyly out of the corner of his eye. "There had been talk, before your turn, that a place on the Jedi Council might have been made for you."

"I'm honored," Skywalker replied dryly. "A seat on the Council for the Chosen One."

"Oh, Anakin, you know it wasn't only because of that."

"And I suppose you being my Master had no affect on the Council's decision."

Obi-wan sighed and closed his eyes in that manner he had used frequently during Anakin's training to calm his temper. "Why are you being so thick-headed about this? In time, you would have earned the seat by your own right. Master Yoda will reestablish the Council, and there is no question you will be a Master of high ranking in the New Order. I do not doubt you are _expected_ to sit on the Council now."

Anakin smirked. "Ah, yes. Me and my experience. Who knew a brief allegiance to the Dark Side could earn one a position of honor in the Jedi Order?"

"Anakin. You're being vulgar and audacious.

"Sorry, Master. But I won't attend this special meeting with you. I want the other Jedi to accept me, and that means not putting on airs. They resent me enough as it is because of the past; I would rather not give them more reasons. For the time, I will remain a Jedi Knight. If I earn the title of Master later on, through my efforts to defeat the Empire, and restore peace and justice by _serving the Light_, then so be it."

Obi-wan was quiet for a moment before nodding solemnly. "Well said, my friend. Very well, then. I would rather stay, but the Council will convene in a little while and I am required, as the official Jedi representative, to attend." He stood and leaned down to give Padme a brief hug. "Thank you for the wonderful meal, Padme. I have missed your cooking these past few months." He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead without any hesitation the old Obi-wan would have shown. "Almost as much as I missed you."

The former senator smiled sympathetically. "We left a place at the table and in our home for you and Sabe every day."

The older woman had stood as well, intending to follow Kenobi to the meeting they were both required to attend. She smiled now and hugged both Padme and Anakin, to the slight surprise of the latter. Anakin was still getting used to her friendly affections.

"And I was glad to join you again, if only for tonight."

The lady Skywalker looked puzzled. "Only tonight? Are you going somewhere?"

"You never know when command might send me off on another mission." Sabe smiled again, but it was tight and without warmth. "The food really was a special treat after dry rations for so long. And it is always a joy to spend time with the twins."

Luke and Leia, who had been simultaneous digging into their puddings, paused to say goodbye, offering sticky, chocolate kisses. Laughing, Sabe left dabbing the mess from her face.

In her absence, Anakin looked at Obi-wan with exasperation. The red-headed Jedi had the good grace to look slightly abashed as he left.

Busy clearing the table, Padme sighed. "You're hopeless. The both of you."

"What did I do?" Her husband demanded.

"For all I know, you're probably the cause of it." Padme paused, dishes in one hand and the other balled against her hip. Normally, Anakin thought she looked rather lovely when she was irritated, especially when Padme got that look on her face that reminded him she was far more than a wife and mother; she had been a queen and was not beyond matching his temper with her own. "Whatever it is you've done to mess things up between those two, fix it."

"I haven't done anything!" Anakin defended, flustered.

Padme sent a sour look his way before disappearing into the kitchen, leaving her husband to clean up after their children.

* * *

"Look, Chewie, they're _all_ Jedi. Can't we just pick one?"

The Wookie woofed a negative and Han sighed in resignation. The two friends had chosen a corner at a distance from the tables where the returned Jedi Knights and Masters were sharing the evening meal. The commons room was full of identical brown robes and saber-wielding beings, but Chewbacca insisted there was only one Jedi he would speak with, and the Master fitting the description didn't seem to be anywhere in the room.

"For all you know, this Master Yoda could be dead, killed in the Purges. 'Sides, I thought you said that Kenobi fellow would do just as well. So why don't we forget this whole surveillance bit and go find him?"

Chewie rolled his eyes and reached down to ruffle the scraggly mop of hair that belonged to the human cub. The boy was young, even by human standards, and not for the first time, the Wookie silently prayed to the Force for patience with his young companion. He explained a second time that other Jedi had confirmed Yoda was alive and presently at _Home One_. And Chewie would prefer to speak to that particular Jedi Master.

"Yeah, well good luck with that, pal. It doesn't look like he's here." Han cocked his head and listened to the conversations buzzing around them. Then his youthful face lit up with a crooked grin and he nudged his companion in the side. "You hear that? The high-and-mighty powers of the Alliance are having a meeting. How much you wanna bet that's where we'll find this Yoda of yours?"

The smuggler shoved off the wall he'd been casually leaning against and slid through the crowd without a soul noticing him. Following in his wake, Chewbacca cut a clean swath through the commons as Jedi and Rebels alike stepped clear of his path. He called after his friend, bellowing to be heard in the commotion of the room.

"I never said nothing about actually _attending_ the meeting, Chewie." Han replied once they had made their way outside and into one of the countless corridors of the base. "I figured we could just hang around outside the doors." The Wookie rumbled a response. "Right, like they're going to arrest us for loitering or something. Look, you were the one who said we needed to find this Master; I'm just trying to get you there. Ouch!"

Han let off a mild stream of curses in Huttese and turned to glare at the droid that had rolled over his foot. It stopped, swerved its dome head around and offered a series of beeps and cooing whistles that Solo could only assume was meant to be an apology.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, massaging his abused toes. "Get out of here before I let my co-pilot take his wrench and turn you into a trash can on wheels."

The little droid blew an electronic raspberry in Han's direction, swung its dome back around and continued in the direction it had been headed at a faster speed.

Chewie's massive shoulders were shaking in barely suppressed laughter. He raised a hairy paw and thumped Han twice on the back, compromising the boy's balance and nearly sending him toppling.

"Laugh it up, you over-grown, furry jawa. Come on," Han set off down the hallway, blushing slightly. "The sooner we find this Yoda, the sooner we can get off this base."

* * *

Obi-wan decided that the Council meeting had definitely gone better than dinner had.

For one, he and Sabe had had absolutely no chance to converse. That had clearly been a mistake at dinner, though he wasn't all-together certain why that was. Perhaps he was still a little uncertain how this whole relationship was supposed to work. The other reason was that while he and Sabe might be 

uncertain about their situation, the Council seemed to be pretty clear on just where the Rebellion stood in the grand scheme of things.

In short, the Emperor was dead, the Alliance presently lacked the ability to take control in his absence, and the Empire had been long enough now without a ruler (some months, they assumed) that secret powers within the Imperial government were probably wrestling for control. If the Alliance failed to act, the Empire would eventually break up into individual warring sectors controlled by triads and war lords. The return of the Jedi and the increase of rebel troops were points in favor of the Alliance, but no one could seem to agree on just that to do with these newly acquired resources. In short, they were right where they had been before Anakin's earlier announcement.

All of this aside, Obi-wan still felt the meeting had gone better than the dinner.

It also felt as if the Council was intentionally not telling him something. This was nothing usual; his past dealing with politicians had taught him that. What did concern him was that Sabe, in her position as a top-level agent, certainly had some idea what was going on and absolutely no intention of telling him what it was.

Kenobi longed to go and meditate on the issue (both issues, if he were honest), but his meeting with Yoda and Master Gharlin couldn't wait.

With a heavy sigh, the only outward sign of just how tired he really was, Obi-wan made his way down the corridor that would lead him to their assigned conference room.

"Hey! Hey, Jedi, wait up!"

Groaning inside, Obi-wan stopped in his tracks and turned to find two rather unusual companions approaching him from the way he had just come. One was a Wookie, a species which Kenobi was familiar with, but could not understand. The being's gruff appearance was made all the more intimidating by the blaster belt he had draped from one shoulder to his opposite waist, the crossbow strapped to his back and a muddied-red bandana tied around his massive, furry head.

The Wookie's companion, the one who had shouted after Obi-wan, was nothing even approaching intimidating; he was far too short for it. It took a moment, but then the Jedi realized it was not a small humanoid he was seeing coming towards him, but rather a young human boy. He had scraggy brown hair that looked as though he had used something sharp on hand to cut it in the past, rather than a pair of scissors, and his clothing was certainly a mismatch of too large, too worn or too fine to belong to such a child. Obi-wan guessed his age to be not yet fifteen and wondered at the blaster the boy had strapped to his hip.

"Yes?" he asked calmly when they were within speaking distance.

The boy slowed to walk and pulled up a few feet from Obi-wan. He leaned back and eyed the Jedi, taking in what Kenobi supposed was his full measure before deciding to speak.

"I got something in my cargo hold that somebody needs to take a look at."

His brow furrowed before he could discipline his face into the indifference mask of a Jedi. This was either a rather bizarre request for help, or this lad thought he could use one of the oldest tricks in the book to lure a Jedi into some sort of trap.

It was amusing to say the least.

"Well, young man," he addressed the boy because the Wookie had yet to add anything to the conversation, "I'm on my way to a meeting at the moment, but if you're inclined to wait until I've 

completed my business, I might have a moment to check out whatever it is you have inside your cargo hold."

The Wookie gave a non-too-gentle thump on his companion's back, accompanied by a short bark and the boy grunted.

"My friend Chewie here thinks that's really swell of you and all, but we're actually looking for a certain Jedi in particular. A Master Yoda. You know him?"

The boy and his hairy companion were attempting to trap Master Yoda? Obi-wan decided that was simply too absurd, or perhaps just plain stupid, and opted for the idea that the two really were in need of some help, help that somehow was related too or required a Jedi. Very well then, one more event to add to his list for the day.

"Master Yoda is attending the conference I was about to join," he informed the two, nodding to the Wookie in a fashion he hoped suggested that Kenobi was, in fact, cooperating with them. "I'll make sure to tell him you are in need of his assistance. What hanger is your ship docked in?"

"Great!" The boy offered Kenobi his hand. "Han Solo. I'm pilot of the YT-1300 docked in hanger A45. We've been looking for this Yoda all day and it's kind of important we get to talk to him, you know?"

No, Obi-wan didn't, but he couldn't help a smile that snuck out from behind his beard. "I will inform Master Yoda he can find you there."

The Wookie woofed, which sounded to him like a curt 'good,' then grabbed the boy and began dragging him back down the hallway.

* * *

Anakin had the twins cleaned up, bathed and ready for bed in what could be considered record time. It had been an incredibly long day. The night before he had been greeted by the specter of Qui-gon Jinn, who had informed him the prophecy of the Chosen One was more or less a moot point. He had been up half the night pondering what this meant for his future, only to journey to _Home One_ the next day, attend two meetings in which he felt the shadow of his crimes looming over him, and then an uncomfortable dinner that ended in his wife telling him off. All in all, Anakin really just wanted to go to bed.

Leia had other plans.

"Tell us a story, Daddy!"

"Daddy's tired, princess. What if I promise to take you to the village tomorrow to play with all those friends you made last time."

His daughter's little lip slipped out in a pout that resembled her mother's similar look.

"Please, Daddy. A short one. Please."

Anakin was about to tell her no a second time, pleading a lack of imagination, when Luke, who had already curled up under the covers in his bed, stuck his blond head out from under the sheets.

His usually bright eyes had that calm, distant look to them that always made Anakin so uneasy.

"You don't have to tell us a story, Dad." His sister turned to glare at him, but Luke turned his blue gaze on her and the look melted from Leia's sweet face. For a moment, her eyes widened, then Leia nodded and buried her face into her pillow, as if pretending to sleep. She hugged her Wookie doll close and didn't make another peep.

Across the distance that separated their beds, Luke reached out for his sister, his fingers barely brushing her cheek.

"Luke?" Anakin asked, silently instructing himself not to be concerned. "What is it?"

"You don't have to tell us a story," his son repeated. "Just stay with us a little while. Please, Dad?"

"Please," came Leia's voice, muffled into the pillow. "Please don't go just yet."

Touched, Anakin nodded and sat down between their beds, his back to the wall. He raised a hand and touched his boy's head, brushing his soft hair. Luke nestled back into the pillows, breathing gently. Then Anakin reached for Leia, and she curled her little hand into his bigger one.

They drifted off to sleep like that, and though they both looked so precious, Anakin felt for some reason unspeakably sad. He thought it might have to do with some of the harsh truths he had learned the night before, about a future that would never come to pass.

He hoped that's what it was. He hoped it had nothing to do with what still might happen in their future.

* * *

:D

Caslia


	48. Destiny, Thou Art a Fickle Creature: Ch6

Two posts in one day? And already I have replies from the last one? Yes! That really makes my day.

Blushes just slightly MercuryBlue144, don't you know not to ask a woman her age? But I'll tell you. I'm twenty-one. I've been writing SW fan fiction since I was fourteen or fifteen. Now I'm attending Columbia University to earn my Masters and I feel that while I still adore Anakin and Obi-wan and can't help occasionally checking up on any new stories (and new Spike stories from BtVS) I should probably be using that time for studying and attempting to have a social life. But you never know. I always tell myself "this is the LAST fic you are every writing!" but that has yet to be the truth.

I know Thomas isn't Admiral Piett's first name, it actually is something more like Firmus, but I don't feel like looking it up. And the name of the Jedi Qui-gon was in love with is T something, but I don't feel like looking that up either. If someone would like to post the correct answer in their replies to this post, I would take the effort to make the necessary changes. Is that hypocritical of me? I don't think so. I think the readers can occasionally help write the fic, even if it is only in small ways.

This also ends the "Destiny, Thou Art" chapter. We're entering the ninth chapter, "Individual Journeys" chapter. Just FYI.

* * *

Chapter Eight:

_Destiny, Thou Art A Fickle Creature_

Four and a half years after _Rebirth of the Light. . ._

* * *

The conference room provided for the Jedi was not one of the customary ones used by the rebels. Because the base had been built into the sides of the large hills that made up the Thanatian landscape, the majority of the rooms, including the Council's chambers, the common rooms and individual quarters, were all more or less underground. The hangers took up the majority of the sides of the hills, so there was little space for rooms with windows to be incorporated. The effect this had on the base was the rebels felt as though they were living not in large hills connected through underground tunnels, but in space ships so large that they couldn't feel the rumble of the engines through the hulls.

For special occasions, the Alliance had built a few rooms that included windows. One of these was the official meeting room of the High Council, which boasted a set of large bay windows. The other room was at the top of one of the hills, just below a level of top soil. The window was more a skylight that had been laid right overhead, so that the sunlight flooded the room. The usual featureless conference table and chairs had seemed out of place, so they had been replaced with a series of plush chairs removed from Coruscant and low-lying wood tables hand-carved by the local inhabitance.

It was as close to the Jedi Temple as Obi-wan knew any of them were going to get.

Allowing himself the luxury of a stuffed leather seat, Kenobi waited for his companions to get comfortable. Master Yoda dragged over a round foot stool and climbed on top, while Master Gharlin took seat nearby. It looked awkward: Jedi Masters who had once lived in simplicity now reclining in salvaged opulence from a faded era.

Above them, the night sky twinkled. The local populace had already retired to their beds, and following Alliance protocol of blackouts, this late in the evening the lights from the hangers had been 

dimmed. Rather than turning on the overhead lights, Gharlin had brought a single portable light with him. It cast a pale light on the room, giving the meeting an eerie quality.

"First meeting of the Jedi Council, in five years, this is," Master Yoda spoke into the near darkness. "Nearly destroyed, were we. Many died. Many that thought, I did, might one day sit on the Council, here they are not. Much has changed." The little Jedi sighed, feeling his age. "And change with it, we must."

"We clearly don't have a choice in the matter," Gharlin added, looking stern. "I do not like this."

Obi-wan shifted uncomfortably, wishing, not for the first time, that Anakin had agreed to come with him. "What, exactly, is it that distresses you, Master Gharlin?"

The other Jedi sighed and closed his eyes in a way that reminded Kenobi of Mace Windu. "I have long admired you, Master Kenobi. Your efforts in the Clone Wars. Your dedication to democracy during the galaxy's most turbulent times. You are, without a doubt, one of the greatest Jedi of your generation." Obi-wan nodded at this praise, and waited for the other shoe to drop. "However," Gharlin continued, "You wish to make changes to the Code, a set of laws that the Jedi have followed for ten thousand years. For what? For your wayward former apprentice?"

"For the betterment of the Jedi Order," Obi-wan interjected.

"Perhaps, but that is a matter that depends on your point of view."

It hurt to hear his own words coming back on him like that. But Obi-wan remained calm, forced himself to see where the other Master was coming from. There was truth to his words, of course. Gharlin was not attacking Obi-wan and his beliefs, he was simply stating his own point of view.

Kenobi forced himself to consider the other side of things.

"I can see why you might think this is not the best decision, Master. It can be argued that attachment was what started Anakin Skywalker off on his path to the Darkside. I would point out that it is also what brought him back. Is this mere coincidence? Perhaps the means to redeem any Sith is to force them to recall the things in their previous lives that they had loved and honored above all else. But this is a matter of philosophy."

Gharlin frowned. "If we were to allow attachments within the Order, we would have to set rules. And where emotions are concerned, rules usually do not apply. I do not believe it will be easy to find a compromise between these two elements."

"Perhaps, so difficult it is not." Master Yoda offered, leaning his chin on his linked knuckles on top of his gimmer stick. "Allow attachment to members within the Order, we might. Bond there already is, between master and apprentice, between knights that fight side by side. So unusual this is not. Unusual it is not for two Jedi to bind themselves together, in love as well as duty. Did this, Master Qui-gon and Master Talha did. Did this Obi-wan and Anakin have as well. Seen this bond between masters and their former students, I have before. Stronger it makes them, rather than a being a danger to their oaths."

"And attachments outside the Order?" Obi-wan asked, feeling his heart sink. He thought of Sabe and their sorry excuse for a courtship over the least few years. Only a few hours ago at dinner, she had hinted at children. Children! The thought had never crossed Obi-wan's mind. He could not imagine himself a father. He had never considered having children of his own, never wanted or needed any, not with Luke and Leia and their seemingly boundless love.

He had received Yoda's silent blessing for his and Sabe's relationship. Now, that could all very easily be taken away. Obi-wan's heart began to beat faster, thudding painfully in his chest. If it came to it, would he be strong enough to fight for Sabe? Could he follow Anakin's example and walk away from the Order for the woman he loved?

Yoda's rough voice broke into the haze of panic that had nearly clouded his senses.

"Attachments of that kind, very dangerous they could be." No doubt he was thinking of Padme, of Anakin, of the millions of lives that had been changed, or lost, due to their relationship. "But good for the Order, it can be as well." Yoda added. "Saved were many Jedi, due to the efforts of Bail Organa. Meditated on this, I have. Encouraged, these relationships will not be."

The beating of his heart skipped a beat once, twice, and Obi-wan thought he might be experiencing some sort of heart failure brought on by stress.

"But," Master Yoda continued, looking solemn, "allowed, it should be. Trust, we must, for each Jedi, their own decision to make. If meant to be is a coupling, then be it must. Stand in the way of the Force, we cannot."

When he could breathe again, Obi-wan heard himself speaking as if from half way across the galaxy. It was not a question he would normally have asked, but the conversation at dinner had influenced his subconscious mind.

"And children?"

"It would probably be best," Gharlin spoke, apparently unaware of Kenobi's distress, "if Force-sensitive children continued growing up unaware of their natural parents. We have seen what happens when children are taken at too old an age, or have too much of a connection with the family into which they are born."

"I meant," Obi-wan corrected without disagreeing, "children born to Jedi."

"Speak you do, of young Luke and Leia Skywalker. A special case, you do not think them?"

Breathing out slowly, Obi-wan wondered when this had all become so personal. He was supposed to be objective, critical-minded. They were discussing the future of the Jedi Order, for Force sake! And he was allowing personal interests and single examples to cloud his better judgment. Even as he rebuked his earlier comments, Obi-wan heard himself reply, "No, Master. If you are allowing attachment in the Order, this may progress to sexual relations, and from there, to the possibility of children by Jedi Knights."

The little green Jedi nodded, and some of the tension Kenobi felt was choking him released its hold. "True, true. Consider this, we must."

"And you don't suppose we could convince them to give their children to the Order, do you?" Gharlin shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The single, dim light cast shadows across the room as he moved.

The thought of trying to convince Anakin to hand his children over to the Temple to be raised was like ripping his soul apart and Obi-wan imagined that was probably how other parents would feel at the suggestion.

"No," was all he said.

"Well, they couldn't possibly train their children them themselves."

"I'll do it."

Both older masters turned to look at Obi-wan.

"Master Kenobi?" Yoda raised his wrinkled brow, looking only mildly startled.

"I will train Luke and Leia, with their parents' permission. They know they can trust me to do my best, to love my apprentices as well as any master can. The twins will still be allowed to see their parents, to have a home life and yet remained dedicate to the beliefs of the Temple. Other Jedi might find this acceptable for their own children as well: to have their son or daughter trained by a close friend. There is no reason that these children couldn't be raised from a young age by their parents in the same ways they would be as youngling in the Temple."

"I think I see your point, Master Kenobi." Gharlin nodded thoughtfully.

"Consider this, we will, more in depth," Yoda added, looking relieved. Obi-wan had not thought what his old master and friend might feel at the thought of taking children away from their parents. It was one thing to take a child from beings you did not know. To take them from friends seemed heartless.

With these thoughts, Obi-wan knew he was not content with the decision they had reached, but at present, it was the best he could arrange.

Gharlin leaned back in his seat and took a moment to glance up at the stars. "It will take time," he murmured, "but the Jedi Order will be rebuilt. I fear for its place in the new system, however."

"The Empire, not always strong, will it be."

"I was speaking of the Rebel Alliance, or whatever it will become when its leaders eventually take their seats at the head of a new galactic order."

"You don't believe the Rebels to be our friends?" Obi-wan frowned into the darkness. "They have sheltered us thus far."

"Thus far," Gharlin mimicked, "you are correct. We serve a purpose, Master Kenobi. They need us to defeat leaderless hordes left in the wake of Palpatine's demise. The High Council images us the victors of countless battles, fighting their war as we did the Republic's not so long ago. And when that war is over, Master Kenobi, what is to become of us?"

"We will go back to being the keepers of justice, Master."

"Will we?" The bitterness in Gharlin's voice crept across the room, seeping into the shadows. "Will we be allowed to have a voice, to guide whatever council of delegates your Rebel Alliance is replaced with? Even now, we are removed from this position; even now they close us out."

Into these shadows, Master Yoda spoke, sounding stronger than he had that evening. "Pride your words carry, Master Gharlin. Careful must you be. Natural it is for the High Command to be suspicious of us. Know us they do not, so trust us, they cannot. Know and trust Master Kenobi, they do. Rely on him, we can, to act wisely on behalf of both the Jedi and the Rebels."

"I am not questioning Master Kenobi's loyalty." Gharlin explained. "I am merely thinking of future dangers. The Jedi lost their influence over the Senate, and over the Chancellor. War, and our near destruction, was the result."

"Determine these things, we cannot." Yoda stated, rapping his stick for emphasis. "Trust us or trust us not, the leaders of this galaxy will. Sometimes we will falter, others, succeed. Force our ways on others, we will not." Then the little master turned his gaze on Obi-wan. "Act you will, as you have been. Offer the Alliance our support, we will. On their side, we will be, till the Force tells us otherwise. Justice and truth, fixed they are not on single government, party or person. Bend we will, to fit the needs of the Force, as bend do the reeds in the rivers."

"Yes, Master." Obi-wan agreed, bowing his head slightly. He heard Gharlin echoing him, and proposing their next topic of conversation. But for the moment, Kenobi's thoughts were else where.

The Jedi had chosen to stand beside the Rebels. And just like all those years ago when the battle of Geonosis had heralded greater battles to come, so had these decisions decided much more than what had been discussed.

The Jedi would return to war.

Obi-wan and Anakin would go with them.

* * *

_He knew he should be cold. He knew he shouldn't be able to draw in breath, but somehow he was still breathing, still alive even though he seemed to be floating in space. The stars, effulgent in the darkness, seemed unusually cold and distant._

_Where was he? Anakin could not seem to move any of his limbs, could not blink his eyes, could not feel his heart beating._

_Then into this endless existence of space and time came a shape. It was well-rounded and looked to be smooth at the edges. It began to increase in size, getting larger until somewhere from the back of his mind, Anakin pulled the word 'planet' and knew that to be what he was looking at. It was not a planet he recognized, but it was the only thing in all the eternal darkness of space that was actual matter._

_Anakin felt himself gravitating towards it. He half consciously wondered if the planet had a species that understood space travel. Maybe a passing ship would pick him up; maybe he could find someone who could explain to him what was going on._

_And then, just as the planet filled the majority of his view, it was gone._

_Not so much gone as in it vanished. It simply ceased to be. In its place were millions of particles, some as large as asteroids, and others smaller than grains of sand. For a moment, it looked as though all the stars had come together, joined at a single spot in all the galaxy._

_And then the shock wave hit him. It was both a physical sensation and a mental one. The rush of force being expelled from the planet's destruction struck against him, forced Anakin back. In its wake came the death throes of billions of beings, their cries in that last instant of life. He could feel them all, sense their terror, their pain and the sudden oblivion that always follows just before death._

_He had seen a planet destroyed._

_He had seen the life of billions snuffed out in an instant, replaced with star dust and desolate space rock. The eerie silence that had thus far haunted him exploded into a series of whistles and beeps, as the magnitude of the event collided with his brain . . ._

* * *

The whistling continued and for the first time in what seemed forever, Anakin actually felt something touching him. Or rather, he felt something bumping repeatedly into his legs. With a sudden jolt, Anakin found himself sitting in the floor in his base quarters.

"Alright, alright, stop! I'm awake!"

The beeping promptly intensified as Anakin pried open his eyes.

"Artoo! Shh! You're going to wake the twins!"

The loyal little droid offered an apologetic series of beeps in a lower key and rolled back away from his master. He spun his domed head slightly to the right, towards the door, before turning his 'eye' back on Anakin and issuing another series of urgent beeps and whistles.

"Yes, alright, I'm coming." Slowly, so as not to wake the twins but also to give his body time to readjust to his surroundings, Anakin stood and ran his hands over his face, trying to clear away the sleep.

He had somehow managed to drift off while sitting between the twin's beds. It couldn't have been for long; his body didn't ache from having slept in an awkward position and neither of the twins had moved since they had fallen asleep under his watchful eye. Besides, Padme should have come to drag him to his own bed by now. She wasn't that angry with him, was she?

Artoo made more demanding whooting sounds and began to roll back and forth between the door and Anakin. His little body shook, and he rattled off more sounds that Anakin took to mean now was not the time to wonder, it was time for action.

"What is it, Artoo?" he asked, coming fully awake.

The droid whistled in frenzy, then turned toward the door and took off at full speed.

"Artoo!"

Grabbing his cloak and lightsaber as he followed the droid through the apartment and into the corridor, Anakin tried to catch his breath and figure out what was going on.

This way, Artoo seemed to be saying. Hurry, this way! Anakin's own speed increased as the droid sped through the hallways, turning each corner with such speed that one wheel rose up off the ground.

"Slow down! Artoo, what's going on!"

A group of rebels appeared up ahead in the corridor, chatting among themselves. Anakin was about to call out for them to let him through, but Artoo's whistle turned into a trumpet blare, and the crowd immediately parted for him. One being was so shocked, he forced himself up against the wall, dropping his datapad in his hurry. Anakin didn't take the time to stop or even apologize. Ahead, more rebels, innocently ambling down the hallways, were being forced out of the way by Anakin's droid.

Anakin decided he must be really out of shape if Artoo could give him a run for his credits like this.

He was catching up to Artoo when he realized they had entered one of the hangers on the far side of the base. Pulling up short, he all but fell over Artoo, as the droid had come to a complete stop.

"Artoo!" he gasped, staring down at his small friend. "What has gotten into you?"

In response, the droid began beeping and whistling again, rocking side to side. For the first time, Anakin was able to concentrate enough to understand what he was being told in droid-speak.

"What? Artoo, what do you mean we've got to hurry or we'll be left behind?"

He let out a single, low whistle.

"Qui-gon? What's this got to do with him? Artoo, tell me right now, what's going on."

"Anakin?"

Turning at the sound of a familiar (Basic speaking) voice, Anakin's confusion didn't fade in the least. Standing just behind him and looking a little guilty was Sabe. It took a moment for him to realize it was his friend, because she was dressed in a flight suit, hair tied back in a bun, flight helmet under one arm. There were some fourteen other beings in the hanger similarly dressed.

"Sabe?"

"Yes. Anakin, what are you doing here?"

Instead of answering her, Anakin took a look around. They were in a hanger, but it wasn't filled with smuggler or refugee ships, or even Jedi ships. Instead, there were numerous brand new fighters, with crewmen running around preparing them for take off. The other rebels in flight suits were helping raise droids up onto the back of the ships; others were climbing ladders into the cockpits.

And Sabe, from the way she was dressed, was going with them.

"Sabe," he managed, stunned at this sudden discovery. "Where are you going?"

Her pause told the Jedi everything he needed to know. "I have a mission."

"A dangerous mission."

"What makes you think that?"

Anakin glared, suspicion and adrenaline replacing the cloudy confusion of only a few moments before. "You're sneaking off in the middle of the night, without telling Obi-wan or Padme or even me that you're going. You've got some fancy new squadron-"

"X-wings."

"Alright." Anakin replied stiffly, not really listening. He had to force himself past the anger, past the instinct to overreact. The Force, or rather, Artoo had brought him here, and there was a reason for it. That reason probably didn't include lecturing Sabe on her less than trustworthy actions. "Just tell me where you're going."

"I can't. Priority One."

"You mean classified. Which means it is dangerous."

Sabe sighed. "Yes, Anakin, alright. You want the truth? Because I'm too tired right now to argue with you, and even if I did, knowing you, you'd just use the Force to read my mind and find it out anyway, so why bother asking you to just trust me?"

Wincing, Anakin had to remind himself that he deserved that. His pride stung, but so did his conscience, and that was an indicator of how he was handling the situation.

"That's not who I am any more."

While she was choosing where or not to respond to that, Sabe remained silent. Behind her, the squadron and crew effectively prepared for the fastest bugging out Anakin had ever seen, even in the Clone Wars.

"Must be real important," he said quietly, looking into her eyes. "If they're leaving that fast, and you're not saying goodbye. It must be real important."

"It is."

He hesitated only a moment. "I'm going with you."

That caught her off guard. "You're what?"

"You clearly don't want Obi-wan to know. That's fine. I'm not going to be the one to tell him. But I'm also not going to let you leave without me. The Force woke me up, dragged me from one end of this base to another. Qui-gon told Artoo he was to come to _Home One_ with us, because he knew I would need him to pilot one of those X-wings. It's my duty as a Jedi to go with you on this mission, and my duty as a friend to keep you alive so Obi-wan can lecture us both when we get back."

For a moment, it looked as those Sabe was going to argue with him, then she smiled softly and shook her head.

"I'm not going to pretend I understood all of that."

"I'm going with you." He said again, as old memories and feelings came rushing back. The Hero with No Fear, off on another adventure. Anakin suddenly realized he was grinning like a madman.

"I suppose there's no stopping you," Sabe agreed. She took him by the elbow and led his toward one of the nearest ships. "Let's get you suited up and ready to go. Captain?"

As if Anakin hadn't had his fill of surprises for the day (and it had been a very long day) the face that appeared around the nose of a nearby fighter was a familiar one.

"Tash?"

"Hey, Skywalker!" The former Warped Wards member stepped around the X-wing and gave the Jedi a slap on the back. He looked good compared to the last time Anakin had seen him. The patch that had previously hidden a black mass of ruined tissue had been replaced with a synthetic eye, and the mangled flesh that had comprised that side of the pilot's face had been completely repaired. Tash seemed to think Anakin looked far better as well. "What do you know?! I _told_ the lady here that if she only took the time and told the Jedi what was happening, _bam_!" He slapped Anakin's back a second time for emphasis. If Anakin had been a man of slighter build, it might have knocked some of the wind out of him. "You would be down here ready to go! So, is it just you, or your other Jedi friend going to be joining us."

"Ah," after Sabe's strict look in response to the mention of Obi-wan, Anakin shook his head. "No, it's just me."

"Well, that will do." Tash replied as he handed Anakin a flight suit and helmet. "After all, just how many of you Jedi do we need? One should be enough to get through the Maw."

All the blood seemed to rush through Anakin's body and out through his ears. He could hear it as it went sailing by. Halfway into the flight suit, he paused, the fabric up to his waist but unable to pull it up further due to the sudden inability to control his limbs.

"The Maw?"

"That's right. You got the memo right?"

When no one said anything, Tash frowned, both real and synthetic eyes swerving to Sabe. She crossed her arms and look at the pilot coolly.

"You _did_ brief him, right? About . . . you know . . . _it_."

Anakin didn't like the sound of _it_, but something told him if he admitted to not knowing what _it _was, or Sabe did it for him, he could very well loose his place on this mission. And that was out of the question. The delight he had felt about getting to fly again, the sense of adventure, the old memories, all of it fell away into nothingness. It didn't matter that here was his chance to be that man again, the Jedi who rushed off to face any challenge. That type of reckless behavior was what had gotten him into all that trouble in the first place. It was what had taken his family from him, his honor, nearly his life.

What mattered now was that whatever _it_ was, it was clearly dangerous. This mission was potentially fatal, and Sabe was leading it. His friend. His best friend's love. Anakin felt cold dread rise up inside of him.

"Yeah, she told me." He replied, his voice flat and serious. He didn't need to know, not just yet. But he didn't want Tash realizing Skywalker was out of the loop. "How soon before take off?"

The other man nodded as Anakin zipped up his suit and picked up a helmet. "Soon as you get in your ship and we load your droid. Good thing you had an extra one sitting around."

"Yeah," Anakin replied numbly, staring at Sabe. "The Force works in mysterious ways."

"That it does," she agreed. Then, with a brisk determination he had rarely seen in her, the agent turned curtly on her heel and headed for another fighter.

Climbing steadily up the ladder and then lowering himself into the cockpit, Anakin took a look around. Though the ship was a recent model, nothing looked unfamiliar. Buttons for thrusters there, hyperdrive located there. Even without touching the joystick, Anakin could almost feel himself melding with the machine. It was a wonderful feeling, one he hadn't felt in some time.

It was different than his suit, different than all the mechanics that had kept him alive for so long. This with something else entirely. It was as if the fighter itself was alive, and he was merely an extension of it, rather than the other way around.

One by one, the other fighters lifted off and left the hanger. Pulling back on the stick, Anakin followed, loving the rush as he lifted off the ground, the feeling of the wind pulling back as he exited the hanger and rose up into the sky.

There was the urge to really gun it, to flash forward and push both himself and the X-wing for all they were worth. But Skywalker held back, forced himself to be calm. Breathing in and out, he soothed his natural instincts.

This wasn't about flying. This was about completing a mission. About keeping Sabe safe.

About stopping _it_, whatever _it_ was.

The night sky of Thanatia thinned, the stars became brighter, and the force of the planet eventually fell away. Leveling out, Anakin took a deep breath and marveled, for the first time since traveling home to Tatooine, at the eternal beauty of the stars.

Briefly, his dream came back to him, a vague recollection, but he pushed it aside.

_Focus_, he told himself. _Obi-wan would tell you to be in the here and now_.

Obi-wan . . .

"Artoo."

The little droid beep in inquiry. In front of Anakin, the datapad lit up.

_Yes, Anakin?_

"Transmit this message to the command post back at _Home One_. See to it that Padme gets it." Artoo beeped an affirmative and Anakin typed in a brief message to his wife, explaining where he had gone. He didn't want her to worry.

He was also vague enough that she wouldn't be able to follow him, either.

Over the din of his engines, he could hear Sabe in his helmet's speaker, addressing the entire squadron. "Alright, Strike. This is Strike One, everyone copy?"

A number of voice replied.

"We've got a friend joining us. Jedi Skywalker, you are Strike Sixteen. You copy?"

"I copy, Strike One."

"You're wingman is going to be Strike Fifteen. You copy that, Fifteen?"

"I copy, Strike One." Replied the voice of a man who sounded to be only a little older than Anakin and from one of the core world. "It's an honor, Jedi Skywalker. I'm Thomas Piett."

"Piett. You from the Core?"

"Yes, sir."

"Former Imperial?"

There was a slight pause filled with static.

"Yes, sir?"

"Dropped out of the academy, did you?"

"Yes." The reply this time seemed hesitant, almost embarrassed.

"You know how to fly one of these things, Piett? These X-wings?"

"Yes, Jedi Skywalker."

"I'll tell you what," Anakin said into the comm. "We've got a couple of hours till our destination. Why don't you fill me in? It's been a while since I've flown a fighter and I could use a little refresher course before we get into any real trouble."

There was another pause, then Piett came back on, sounding a bit more confident and a bit amused. "I thought all a Jedi needed was the Force, sir."

"My master always told me you should never do something with the Force that can be done just as well on your own. And it's Anakin, by the way."

"Right, Anakin."

"Cut the chatter or switch to a private channel, you two lovebirds," Tash's voice cut across the static. "This is Strike Two. Prepare to enter hyperspace."

As Anakin pulled back on the lever to enter hyperspace, behind him Artoo gave a final encouraging whistle.

Anakin wondered just what the little droid had gotten them both into.

* * *

:D

Caslia


	49. Individual Journeys: Chapter 1

Hello and welcome back to the Rebirth of the Light Series! I hope you all have been enjoying your summer, either spending it making some extra money, or simply enjoying your time hanging out with friends. Personally, I have been spending my time taking additional classes. I start grad school in a month (whoot!) and am presently taking some courses related to my area of interest. Should any readers be in the Palo Alto, CA area, or even on Stanford campus, I'd love to hear from you. Any readers in New York, NY, I'm headed your way!

I know you're all interested in getting to the post, but you're going to have to listen to me first…unless you simply scroll down and ignore the author's note, which I'll understand. I just thought I would make a general announcement, as promised to a reader before the summer started. Announcement: I will not be finishing Sharing of Sisters. I will, however, put up the detailed summary of what would have happened had I actually gotten around to it. I think that's only polite. I can't tell you how many fics never get finished and I was _dying_ to know what happened, and even though I am well aware the author is probably never going to post again, their story is still saved under my Favorites, in files specially marked for Star Wars fan fiction. (I'm somewhat obsessive compulsive, so just imagine all the little sub-folders and sub-sub-folders in which everything has been complied). That being said, that does _not_ mean that once RotL is finished, that I am done with fan fiction. In fact, just the other night, I was supposed to be working on a political science paper, and suddenly had such a compelling story idea, I actually started writing the first post before I realized what I was doing! So, like I said, ending Sos doesn't mean I've put the horse out to pasture…kicked the bucket on fan fiction…sold the proverbial barn…there's two themes there: ending and a country setting. Is there an urban equivalent? Maybe subletting the apartment?

Yes, I _am_ rambling. I'm in a rather cheery mood (what can I say? I had an excellent hair day :p ) which promoted me to put some of my good humor into writing a post. That doesn't mean the post will be cheery, of course. But I feel motivated, and that's the important thing. So! Before the author's note becomes longer than the actual post, let's pick up where we left off…interestingly enough, we're basically still on the same day for the characters that we were some four or five posts ago. In fact, the entire 8th chapter, _Destiny_, was basically the same day. Huh…wonder how that worked out. Anyways! Moving on!

(On a side note, has anyone ever noticed that if you write Yoda-speak properly, it's not grammatically incorrect? What I mean to say is, the little green line on Word never shows up underneath. My computer recognizes the accuracy of Yoda-speak, but there are plenty of legitimate words in the English language that it simply can't comprehend. Such as untucked. Is untucked not a word? If it isn't, it should be. So should decidingly. I think decidingly should be a word.)

* * *

Chapter Nine:

_Individual Journeys_

Five years after _Rebirth of the Light. . ._

* * *

The YT-1300 docked in hanger bay A45 was not very much to look at. In fact, it looked less like a space-worthy craft than what Jawas might have designed as a condo beach house if Tatooine was ever able to boast anything resembling an ocean. All across the hull, Obi-wan could see where the young pilot and his Wookie companion had been making modifications, and while their updated artillery outranked some of the newer fighters owned by the Rebellion, this was one ship the Jedi did not want to be trapped in during a fire fight.

But, as the diminutive Jedi Master at his side had constantly reminded thousands of Jedi Padawans over the years, size didn't matter, and looks could be deceiving.

"That's the ship the boy claimed to pilot." He said as he and Yoda cautiously approached the ship. "Perhaps I should ask around if any of the other suppliers are familiar with them?" He looked halfheartedly around the deserted hanger. On Thanatian time, it was well into the middle of the night, nearly early morning, and no one was around.

"Urgent, the boy said it was. Asked for me by name, he did. Investigate this we should, should immediate action the situation require."

There was no arguing with that.

Besides, there was no reason to delay. After an entire day of conferences, Kenobi was exhausted, but he dreaded the thought of going back to his quarters and finding the bed empty. After their little spat at dinner, if it could even been called that, Sabe would probably choose to sleep in her own quarters tonight. He would have to wait until in the morning to apologize to her, and that left him with only his confused discomfort to share the bed with.

Approaching the lowered ramp, Obi-wan fought back the urge to rest a hand on the hilt of his lightsaber. He hadn't sensed anything threatening from the unusual pair earlier, but that didn't mean there wasn't trouble in the future.

_Be mindful of the present, Obi-wan._

The memory of Qui-gon's instructions came floating up from the back of his mind, and in keeping with the instruction, Kenobi pushed the voice away and concentrated on listening for voices coming from inside the ship.

It was all very quiet.

"Hello?" Obi-wan called, striding halfway up the ramp. The Force told him both the boy and the Wookie were aboard, but when there was no answer, he took a few more steps forward and entered the ship. "Hello, you requested a meeting with Jedi?"

Kenobi practically jumped out of his skin when there was a loud brawling sound behind him. Only the absence of a threat from the Force stopped him from spinning around with an ignited lightsaber.

The Wookie was standing just behind him in the hallway. Seeing the look on the Jedi's face, he gave a shoulder-heaving bark of laughter, then turned to look down the ramp at Master Yoda. He continued to bark and howl in the utterly incomprehensible language his species used, but his speak had the feeling of joyous welcome.

"Long time has it been," Yoda agreed, hobbling forward, "since saw you I did, Chewbacca. Glad I am as well, that survived the war you did. My friend this is, Jedi Master Obi-wan Kenobi. Know him you did, as General Kenobi of the Clone Wars."

Chewbacca barked again at Obi-wan, and offered his paw in a very human like gesture. He took it cautiously, unfamiliar with whether or not Wookies possessed claws.

"We've come about whatever cargo it was you mentioned earlier," Obi-wan clarified, feeling more relaxed about the situation now.

With a nod, Chewbacca turned and wailed into the back of the ship. From somewhere within, there was a yelp, followed by a loud crash, and then rather colorful Corellian cursing that told the Jedi the 

young pilot had probably been sleeping. They didn't wait for him, however, as the Wookie took the two Jedi down a hallway and into one of the larger cargo holds. As they made their way, Obi-wan had to admit the interior of the ship looked just as poor as the outside. Still, he was sure Anakin would have confirmed otherwise.

From out of a corner, Chewbacca pulled a crate just large enough that Artoo might have fit inside if laid on his side. Unlike most shipping crates, however, rather than being simply sealed with a swipe lock, this one also included a keypad for a numerical password and an old-fashioned circuit lock.

"Extra security," Chewbacca explained as he pulled the swipe card from one of the many pouches on his shoulder belt.

"Don't Jedi ever sleep?" Came a grouchy voice behind them. The boy, shirt untucked and hair a scraggily mess, lumbered up behind them in the uncertain walk of the still half-asleep. He yawned and pointed at the crate. "This stuff would go for a ton of credits on the black market, so Chewie here thought it best to keep everything tight till we found us some Jedi. One of the crewmen here at base nearly walked off with it, thinking it was cargo."

Obi-wan frowned, and looked questioningly at Yoda. What could be so important, so valuable, that it required such security?

"I take it that means you've done business on the black market, if you're familiar with the value of this merchandise," he replied.

The boy, whom Obi-wan was only now remembering was called Han, shrugged without answering, then turned his attention to the crate as Chewbacca finished removing the locks and lifted the lid. The Wookie stepped back and waved a furry paw at the contents, barking again something Obi-wan couldn't understand. The meaning, however, was clear.

He half-knelt beside the crate and brushed aside the packing material. What he discovered underneath sent a jolt through his system.

* * *

As it turned out, Piett wasn't the chatty kind. He gave Anakin a run down of the systems of his new X-wing, which turned out to be basically the same as any other ship. He'd know that they would, of course, but the brief conversation had given Anakin time to get a feel for his wingman and to build a little trust between them.

It wasn't a good idea to go into any dangerous situation without a sense of the man who was going to be watching your tail.

Before long, the conversation had turned to more personal matters. As it turned out, Firmus Piett had served in the Clone Wars about the same time as Anakin, only in a less directly involved manner. He had been too young at the time to have any real military training, but as soon as he was legally eligible for combat, Piett had ignored his mother's fears and his father's push to consider politics, and taken off to join a militant combat group in the Outer Rims. He'd served a year or two in a unit that specialized in space rather than planetary fighting against the Separatists, and then just about the time Anakin had earned his Knighthood, had applied to work closely with the Republic clone army as an agent. When the Republic had become the Empire, Piett had entered the Imperial Academy, but dropped out after only a year.

At first, the order promised by the new system had appealed to the young man, as had the potential for peace. Having lost friends in the war but never his sense of duty to his comrades-in-arms, Piett had thought to return to military service after the Academy. But the new policies against women and 

non-humans were unlike anything he had previously encountered, and the indoctrination of the new recruits was in contradiction to his understanding of service with honor.

He had dropped out, and returned to his homeworld in the Core, hoping to reinvest himself in the political future he had previously shunned. But even there he found the system no longer supported the ideals he had thought they had all been fighting for during the war. At a loss, Piett remained loyal to his post only because he saw no other option.

At least, he admitted, until word had reached the Core some three years ago that Darth Vader, the enforcer of Imperial law, had left the Empire. Word was spreading of a rebellion, and though many young men and women of his generation were tired of conflict, Piett discovered he was unwilling to sit still. Now he was a member of one of the most elite squadrons in the Alliance, and pleased to be back in the familiar role of fighter pilot.

The account was quick, dismissive even, in a manner that reminded Anakin of the Core worlds. But it was also compelling. It was a side of the story he had never heard before. Not only was it from someone who had served in the war who was neither a clone nor a Jedi, but it was also from someone his own age, who had all the privileges of the new regime, with all the bright promises the Empire offered the Clone Wars veterans, who had slowly watched that bright future dim. It also was the despairing reminder that individuals like himself and Piett were few among the Empire's citizens. Most were unwilling to face galactic conflict again, and saw the Rebellion as ungrateful warmongers.

Piett hadn't asked about Anakin's own defection to the Alliance, either out of respect considering the more delicate circumstances, or because he had already heard everything through the Alliance rumor mill. Either way, Anakin was grateful.

And incredibly tired. It had been a long, _long_ day for him. And even though there was plenty of time before they made their exit from hyperspace, he couldn't quite drift off to a peaceful sleep without knowing a little more about his present mission.

"Artoo?" The little droid whistled in acknowledgement. "Could you patch me through on a private channel to Sabe, please?"

A moment later, her sleepy voice was muttering in his ear.

"What is it, Skywalker? This woman needs her beauty sleep sometime today."

Anakin chuckled. "Sorry, Sabe. Besides, you shouldn't be too worried about beauty sleep. I think at this point, you could return to base looking like something a Hutt spit up and Obi-wan would still be itching to kiss you."

There was a pause before she replied. "I think I upset him at dinner."

"Really? I thought you were the one who was upset."

"I was. A little." She admitted.

"Because you're thinking about where this relationship is going, and he isn't? Sabe, I don't mean to take sides here, but I have to agreed with Obi-wan that it might be a little early to consider children."

There was a burst of static that translated into an unladly-like snort. "I wasn't _actually_ thinking about children, Anakin."

"You weren't?"

"No. Do you think I have time for that? Does Obi-wan? Besides, both of our lives are about serving others, and most of the time that means putting our lives at risk. I'm happy that you and Padme can make it work, but for me, children really aren't in my plans."

"Then what was the whole thing at dinner about?"

"I don't know." She sighed, sounding aggravated. "Just because I don't want children doesn't mean I don't want Obi-wan and I to have a future together. I want commitment. I want compromise."

"Hasn't he given you those things? Obi-wan has been trying to make this happen for years! And he's even been willing to go against the Code, against the ruling of the Jedi Masters, to be with you. If that isn't compromise on his part, I don't know what is."

"You're saying I'm being unreasonable."

"Yes!" Anakin replied, almost as aggravated. "You were picking a fight! And now I know why. You had some secret, suicidal mission planned, and you didn't intend on telling Obi-wan about it, so to make yourself feel better about putting your responsibilities to the Alliance above your relationship, you forced him into a corner considering his Jedi values and children that you don't even want!"

There was another long pause from her end of the line which Anakin hoped meant Sabe was considering what he had said and simply not cut their communication link.

"I never knew you to be one for psychology."

Anakin grinned, relieved. "I have many talents."

"Would one of them be the ability to pilot a squadron of fighters safely through the Maw system?"

His grin melted into a frown at the tension in Sabe's voice. She was concerned, more so than she had appeared before her pilots in the hanger. His own echoed the sentiment. "Normally, I would say I can fly anything with a single active thruster and a joystick, but as I've learned over the years, pride can have serious consequences. I can get us through the Maw, so long as everyone sticks close, follows my orders, and lets me concentrate. But it's once we get through it, what we find on the other side, that has me worried."

"We're not actually going through it, at least not all the way," Sabe corrected. "Our intelligence material, stolen from a high security compound on Coruscant, tells us that there is a calm portion of space located within the system. There, the Empire has been constructing a secret military engineering facility."

"And you're sure about the legitimacy of the intelligence material?"

"I was the one who did the stealing."

"Good enough for me." Anakin replied. "So at this facility, we're going to find and destroy _it_, whatever _it_ is."

"Sorry about that," Sabe said, not soundly the least bit contrite. "I didn't actually have time to brief you when you randomly showed up in the middle of the night, just before take off. How did that happen, by the way?"

"The Force, with the help of a deceased Jedi Master and a loyal little Artoo unit. But getting back to the reason for this secret mission?"

"_It_, as Tash likes to refer to our objective, is a new weapon the Emperor, your former Darth Sidious, has been working on for some time. It might never have come to light what he had planned if the assassination attempt hadn't been a success, leaving numerous high security clearance files in the hands of his less-than-informed subordinates." She didn't ask him if he knew anything about the assassination, even though he knew Sabe was terribly curious, and Anakin was momentarily pleased to know that he could trust her with the truth. Another conversation for another time, though. "This weapon," she was saying, "is still in the early development stages, but High Command agrees we need to get in there as soon as possible, destroy the prototype, the plans, and preferably the entire base if at all possible."

"Okay," Anakin agreed, as of yet unconvinced for the need for this to be a top security matter. "So what makes this weapon so sinister that it's got Tash and all of High Command on edge?"

"Once fully operational, it could destroy planets."

"Beg pardon?"

As Sabe filled him in on the details, Anakin felt his body slump farther and farther into his seat. He suddenly felt more than just physically exhausted, and as much as he just wanted to drift away into oblivion, he knew he would be hard pressed to get any sleep any time soon.

* * *

It had been too late in the night to do anything, but Obi-wan and Yoda had begun making plans before even leaving the hull of the _Millennium Falcon_. Han and Chewbacca had agreed to keep the crate overnight, and the Jedi would return to retrieve it in the morning, when they would call yet another meeting of the Council, this time with Anakin in attendance, to put their plans into action.

Obi-wan had returned to his room, and as expected, his empty bed, only to toss and turn the remainder of the night. The contents of the crate should have given him hope, but in his experience, hope tended to be short-lived if immediate action wasn't taken to preserve it. Even waiting a few hours till the morning made his nervous.

Despite his anxiety, he did eventually drift off, only to be woken what he thought was a few minutes later by the loud chiming of the comm. unit informing him someone was outside his door.

Disorientated, he stumbled his way to the door and palmed it open to find Padme on the other side.

"Obi-wan?" The irritated look she had been wearing was replaced with worry. "Are you alright? You look terrible."

"Thanks," he replied sleepily, and moved to let her inside his quarters. Padme stepped inside and immediately forced him down into a chair, and with the tenderness of a mother to two children and care-taker of two irresponsible grown men, began to look him over. "Padme, stop, I'm okay." He tried in vain to brush her hands aside. It was one thing for her to want to look after him when he wasn't well. It was another from her to barge into his quarters and begin an examination of him while he was still in his pajamas. "I just didn't get any sleep."

But something about her fussing told him she wasn't concerned over his health.

The look on her face reminded him of the terrifying day she had contacted him from Naboo, in which Anakin had gone missing and Obi-wan had realized where his former apprentice had gone. To Palpatine. "Padme," he said her name in a stern voice and standing to hold her steady, "what's happened."

"It's Anakin."

_Force, don't let that memory take form in the present_. Obi-wan silently prayed.

"Why didn't you comm. me?"

"I did!" She practically wailed, pulling him into an embrace. "But you didn't answer, so I came looking for you."

There was a terrible sinking feeling in his gut, and nothing in the Force could confirm his fears one way or another. He could sense that Anakin was no where on the base. If he wasn't answering his comm., Anakin would most certainly respond to the questing waves Obi-wan was sending out. Even unconscious, even intentionally trying to avoid being found, Anakin wouldn't be able to hide his presence to this extent.

He had to force down the fear, release it into the Force. Whatever had happened, it wasn't as bad as the last time Anakin had gone missing. Obi-wan felt that as long as he believed that, it had to be true. And if Anakin did run off without telling anyone, there had to be a good reason for it.

It had better be a good reason, or Skywalker was a dead man when he returned.

"Anakin's gone, isn't he?"

"Yes," Padme slumped into the seat he had abandoned. For the first time, Obi-wan was coherent enough to notice that while her plain attire was nothing new since they had come to live on Thanatia, her hair had been pulled back into a messy pile and simply pinned at the nape of her neck. She looked bedraggled, almost as if she was the one who had just woken up. From a pocket in her rebel fatigues, she pulled out a small datapad and stared glumly down at it. "I received this message sometime last night and only found it this morning. I recognize the serial number of the unit that sent it. It was Artoo."

There was at least some hope in that. If Anakin had taken Artoo with him, it meant he hadn't charged off in an emotional fury of some kind. There had been at least some thought to his actions if he had taken the droid along and sent a message to his wife.

"May I?"

Padme passed it to him without looking up.

It read simply: _Gone with Sabe._

"What are we going to do?" Padme asked him quietly, and Obi-wan thought of all the things he could say. He was supposed to tell her not to worry, that they would figure out what this meant. That at least they knew Anakin wasn't alone, that it wasn't like the last time he had abandoned her. Obi-wan wanted to say that the hasty message suggested there probably hadn't been time for Skywalker to contact his family and let them know what was happening, that to protect Sabe he had had to act, and that they were lucky to receive any kind of message at all.

But Padme already knew all of that, and verbalizing it would just be Obi-wan trying to convince himself of these things.

Reaching out to the Force for guidance, he released his fears, overcame his emotional response and thought rationally about the situation. It hadn't been so long ago that this sort of situation was completely normal. During the Clone Wars, he and Anakin had faced similar moments where the need 

for action had outweighed the need for personal communication. Given the chance to communicate, Anakin wouldn't waste words. He would have sent the one clue they would need to follow him.

"The next step," he informed his friend, "is to find out just where Sabe was going, and why."

* * *

"No."

"But Bail-!"

"I'm sorry, Padme," the senator told his friend, looking genuinely apologetic, which interfered with Obi-wan's new desire to hate the man. "But the mission Agent Ulin and the Strike squadron were sent on is of the highest security. You know I trust you beyond the shadow of a doubt. The Alliance might not even exist if not for your efforts during the early years! But I'm afraid my high opinion of you and Master Kenobi does not allow me to simply hand out top security information."

Padme glared at her friend, looking every bit the elegant senator she had before the rise of the Empire. Before meeting with Organa, Obi-wan had returned her to her quarters with instructions to bath and dress. He had contacted Jedi Reckin and asking if he and his friends would mind watching the twins while they attended a meeting with a member of the High Council. Then they had practically bullied their way in to see Bail Organa, whose happiness in getting to converse with someone on something other than intra-organizational politics was put to death with Padme's demands.

"My husband," she told him fiercely, hands clenched and resting on the slight curve of her hips, "is gone. _Gone_, Bail! You sent Sabe off on a mission, and my stubborn, reckless, _inconsiderate_ husband Anakin Skywalker went with her. I demand to know where you sent them!"

Organa sighed. "So you and Master Kenobi can go after them?"

"Of course!"

"No," Obi-wan interjected, receiving a withering glare from the petite woman at his side. "No, you're not going to go chasing after them, Padme. Think of the twins."

For a moment, Padme's mouth hung open, then she took one of her tiny fisted hands and used it to beat his shoulder in a manner Obi-wan was sure would bruise.

"You and Anakin are just alike, aren't you! You're going to go running off after them and leave me here like always! I won't have it, you hear me? I won't allow it. It's bad enough the two of you went gallivanting all over the galaxy during the wars, leaving me home on Naboo to fret, but at least I had Sabe to keep me company. Now all three of you are going to run off without me, probably straight into danger and I tell you, I simply won't have it, Obi-wan!" She had stopped hitting him, but he shrank from her voice anyway. He had forgotten the sheer power she had wielded as both a queen and a senator. Over the last few years, that voice had only been directed at the twins when they misbehaved; now it was being used to strip Kenobi's defenses bare.

Bail looked on in sympathy.

"Padme, calm down," he instructed, trying to bring his Jedi authority to bear against her righteous anger. "If Anakin had been worried enough about the mission to want me there at his side, he would have sent the message to me, not to you."

The senator nodded in agreement. "It's likely he simply didn't want you to wake and find he had completely vanished. And while we had originally decided a Jedi was not required for the mission, I 

have to admit I believe there is a much greater chance for success with one along for the ride, especially your husband."

"But it is dangerous, what they're doing?" Padme asked her long-time friend. Bail offered that partial smile that was part of a politician's arsenal.

"When is anything not dangerous anymore?"

He saw Obi-wan and Padme to the door, apologizing again for being unable to give them any other information. Despite his cheerful manner, Obi-wan could sense under it that this new information about Anakin had made Organa both relieved and concerned. No doubt he did think it a boon that Skywalker had gone on the mission. What he was worried about, Obi-wan couldn't discern, but he was sure that if he knew the cause, he would be terribly displeased with the decisions of the High Council.

"What do we do now?" Padme asked wearily as they stood in the corridor. "We can't go after him, we can't contact him." She stamped her foot in irritation. "Oh! If anything happens to Anakin, I will never forgive him for running off like this! I will beat his head in when he gets home. See if he ever runs away again after that!"

Obi-wan smiled softly and squeezed her hand reassuringly. "The moment he returns, triumphant and beaming, and lands in that hanger, you won't remember wanting to make him pay for his recklessness. You're just going to be happy that he's safe."

She nodded knowingly. "I trust you. You've had to put up with this far longer than I have." She laughed without humor. "If he's this bad now, I can only imagine the kind of trouble Anakin could get himself into when he was first a Jedi Padawan. Always running off to save the day."

"Tripping over his feet in the process," Obi-wan smiled in memory, and felt generally reassured. Whatever he had gotten himself into, Anakin would keep his head and return home. And Kenobi felt better knowing that no matter how dangerous the situation was, he could count on his friend to protect Sabe with his life. They would both be home safe within a matter of weeks. "Besides," he said, trying to lighten Padme's concerns as well. "You'll know what it was like soon enough. I have a feeling Luke and Leia are going to be a lot like their father in that respect."

"Force protect us!"

Laughing, he leaned down and pressed a chaste case on her forehead, and in turn, Padme leaned into his robes for a brief hug.

"There now, let's try and keep our own heads, shall we?" He suggested. "Go home. See to the twins. I have a meeting with the Jedi Council, and then I will join you for lunch. Alright?"

She nodded, gave Obi-wan a final hug, and made her way down the corridor. Watching her leave, he chewed his bottom lip, considering. She might have relented when faced with Bail's unwillingness to give up information, and even to his own attempts to comfort her, but Obi-wan knew the former queen all to well.

Padme would not simply stay on the base and wait for her husband to return.

* * *

He arrived back at the conference room assigned to the Jedi Council to find Master Gharlin besieged by the enterprising Han Solo.

"I tell you, Jedi," the boy was saying, "a lightsaber is a handy weapon when the fighting is up close and personal like. But there's nothing like a blaster when you're having to work long-range. Now, this little piece here cost me quite a few credits, but I'm willing to part with it at a reasonable price."

"I'm sure you are," Gharlin replied, looking amused.

Chewbacca, who started to undo the locks once a Jedi he knew entered the room, woofed at his companion in an irritated fashion.

"What?" Han asked, looking innocent. "Never know when a new blaster might come in handy."

The Wookie sighed.

"I'm sure Master Gharlin is well versed in the practical use of a blaster, Captain Solo," Obi-wan commented, smiling behind his beard. "But he's probably more interested in the contents of your cargo crate."

"Yeah, yeah," the boy agreed, put out. He gave a huff and collapsed on one of the room's many plush seats. "Everybody wants to know what's in the crate. What _I_ want to know is just what you're going to do about it. I mean, I didn't haul that stuff halfway across the galaxy to go around the base displaying it to every Jedi like it was an open house at an art gallery. Are you going to take it off my hands, or what?"

Han's head swung forward as a massive paw smacked him in a non-too-gentle reminder to behave himself.

"I thought you worked as a supplier for the Rebellion," Obi-wan said as the pilot rubbed the back of his head.

"Yeah, course. Better than working for those Hutts, if you know what I mean."

Kenobi didn't, but he was sure Anakin, if he had bothered to stick around, would have. "Then you could consider this as supplying allies of the Alliance."

Solo frowned and shot up from his slump. "You mean I ain't going to get paid?"

"Pay you, we will, young Solo."

The four beings turned to greet Yoda as the little Jedi Master hobbled into the room. His overall health seemed to have improved in the week since he had arrived at _Home One_, what with the return of the Jedi, the announcement of the Emperor's death, and now this new discovery. Kenobi and Gharlin bowed, while Chewbacca barked a greeting.

"Pay you for bringing these items to our attention we will. Pay you as well, we will, to take members of our Order with you."

"With me?"

"You're correct in assuming we will need to retrieve the other artifacts you uncovered." Obi-wan explained. "And while one or two Jedi could easily take the coordinates you have given us and go to the planet alone, we could not possibly hope to bring everything back with us. Your ship is the perfect vessel to accompany us and transport everything to the base."

Han looked skeptical. "You want to bring _all_ of it here? First off, Jedi," a growl from the Wookie had the boy clearing his throat, "uh, Master Kenobi, you haven't seen all of it. I have. We're talking shelves carved into the sheer rock of the place, some piled so high even Chewie here couldn't reach the top. And second, why bring it all here? If the Empire ever finds this place and blows you all to hell, then everything is safer where it is at the moment."

"A point, the boy has," Yoda agreed.

"Hold on, I think we're getting ahead of ourselves," Gharlin interjected as Obi-wan was about to argue. The Bothan Jedi looked disgruntled about having been left out of the loop. "I'm afraid I still don't know what artifacts you're talking about. What is in the crate?"

Without a word, Solo leaned down and flipped open the lid. He pushed aside the packaging material and reached inside to pull out one of the items. Resting on his open palm, he held it up for the Jedi Master to see.

"A Jedi holocom?" Startled, Gharlin didn't even reach to take the precious item from the young pilot. He just stared at it, as amazed as Obi-wan had been the first time he had seen the contents of the crate.

"Yes," Kenobi agreed as Han passed the glowing box to him. "An ancient artifact of the Jedi, containing the teachings of countless generations. All thought lost with the razing of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant."

"Where did you find it?" The elder master breathed, looking at Solo with amazed admiration. "I had assumed Palpatine had destroyed everything he could get his hands on."

"He probably did." The pilot agreed. "I know if I were the Emperor, I would do my best to destroy my enemies' resources. But he couldn't get his grimy hands on any of this, cause it wasn't on Coruscant. Needing to make a few repairs during a supply run, me and Chewie landed on this desolate piece of rock pretending to be a planet. The natives were the hostile kind and might have had us for dinner if Chewie here hadn't recognized that one of 'em had a lightsaber strapped to his belt. After we charmed 'em into letting us live, the elders figured we could be trusted and took us into their mountains. That's where we found these."

Reaching back into the crate, Han pulled out an antique-looking lightsaber and twirled it around in his hand. Chewbacca quickly took it aware from his young charge before any harm could be done. He passed it to Gharlin, who took it with reverence and began admiring the craftsmanship.

"You should have seen the place! We walked into this massive cave. Looked like one of you Jedi had taken one of your lightsabers to the walls. The rock had been carved all along into shelves, and they were filled with those things," he pointed at the holocom still resting in Obi-wan's hand. "And there were lightsabers, and what Chewie thought might be saber gems. And datapads, and little balls that spat lasers when you turned 'em on." Kenobi winced at the mental image of Solo turning on a remote in such a place.

The Wookie cut in, barking for long moments and Gharlin and Yoda nodding along as he spoke.

"What did he say?" he asked Han.

"What, you don't speak Wookie?"

"No more than he speaks Basic," Obi-wan replied, only belatedly realizing he was being terribly rude to someone who had done them a great service. He simply hated being left out of the loop.

Solo's lip curled back, but he shrugged. "Said there was a computer bank, beeping and whirling in one of the back caves. We didn't try to hack into it, but he figured there had to be something important contained on its hard drive."

"Go you must," Yoda said to Obi-wan after thanking Chewbacca and Solo. "Right the boy is that bring the artifacts here, we cannot. Safer they would be, to remain hidden. But learn what is stored there, we should. Records there may be, to help us. Gems there would be, for young Jedi in need of lightsabers. If pilot you there, our good friends will, then leave you and Anakin must, immediately."

The Wookie woofed in agreement, then in question and pointed at the crate.

"I agree, these need to be kept in a safe place, but I know of none on the base," Gharlin looked questioningly at Kenobi. "Would the Lady Skywalker perhaps consider keeping the artifacts at her house in the country? Should there be any Imperial spies among the rebels, or an attack on the base, it is unlikely they will come to harm there."

"I'm sure she would be honored," Obi-wan hesitated, "however, I'm afraid Anakin will not be accompanying me if I go with Captain Solo and Chewbacca."

Yoda frowned, his ears lowering. "In trouble, is our Jedi Skywalker?"

"Um, yes and no. Not so much in trouble as gone on a rather dangerous mission for the Alliance. It is of such high security that even my allies among the High Council were unwilling to give me any information. The High Command, the military arm of the Alliance, refuses to given even myself and Padme the necessary clearance to discover where he has gone."

"Unfortunate this is." Yoda replied. He bowed his head in thought, sighing.

"Master," Obi-wan was concerned, remembering a time not so long ago when Yoda had thought the worst of Skywalker. He had tried to persuade Anakin to leave his family, had thought him irredeemable. In the past few years, the old Master had accepted Anakin as both a returned Jedi Knight, and as Obi-wan's partner in the Order. This latest adventure of his brother's, even if it was unintentional, could put him in a poor standing with the Council. "Anakin did what he thought was best. He did not take on this mission without reason."

"The case, that may be. But others now must we send in his place. Master Gharlin," Yoda turned his attention to the other Master present. "Know of a Knight suitable to send with Master Kenobi, do you?"

"I'm sure I can find someone."

Obi-wan tasted something sour in his mouth and had to forcibly swallow. He didn't want to serve beside anyone other than Anakin. They had been together so long, almost from the beginning it seemed, that having anyone else at his side would feel very much like a betrayal. And if Gharlin did find someone else, and the mission went well, they might assume in the future that he was willing to serve with others. They might even ask him to take on his second apprentice.

And while he had toyed with the idea when Anakin was still his Padawan, before the Dark Times, it had never been serious. He had always thought, with my next apprentice, I will be sure to do this instead, or not to allow this, or I'll be more prepared when a situation like this arises. When the Order was still in power, he had always assumed that one day he would take on another apprentice, maybe even a third in later years. But since the near destruction of the Jedi, with Anakin's fall and then his return, Obi-wan had never given it any more thought than that, one day, he and Anakin would train their apprentices side by side.

And somehow, he had always imagined those apprentices would be the twins.

Had he been foolish? There were plenty of young Jedi who needed training. Plenty of apprentices with great potential and not enough Masters to train them all. Now more than ever, as a good Jedi, he should take on an apprentice and begin their training.

But the bond between himself and Skywalker was stronger than any bond he had ever heard of, even stronger than the one he and Master Qui-gon had shared. To consider sharing that with anyone else felt wrong. It only seemed natural that one day, he would take his niece or nephew on as an apprentice, as he had told the Council that he would.

Fortunately, while these disconcerting thoughts took up residence in his mind, Obi-wan had an alternative on hand.

"Perhaps I might offer another possibility?"

"Of course." Master Yoda replied.

"As I have said, Anakin is gone. And while I feel he is more than capable of taking care of himself, I am not so certain of Padme."

"Is the Lady Skywalker ill?" Gharlin asked politely, but coolly; a subtle reminder of his opinion on the matter of relationships outside the order.

"No," Obi-wan replied sternly, "but I do believe that if left to her own devises, she will go running off after her husband, and into danger. Giving her something to do might restrain her own more reckless tendencies. Padme has experience in this kind of mission, and what's more, she is in possession of a droid that is fluent in…well, I never really listened when he was informing me of his capabilities, but let me just say he can speak and read far more languages than I could ever hope to. He might be useful in interpreting some of the records."

"A good idea, I believe this to be, Master Obi-wan," Yoda nodded thoughtfully, admiring the holocom Kenobi had passed to him. "Useful both of your companions may be. But what of young Luke and Leia?"

The younger Jedi shrugged.

"We'll bring them along."

* * *

"You want me to let those kids on my ship?" Han demanded when Obi-wan showed up at the hanger a few hours later with Padme, Threepio and the twins in tow. "This here ain't a flying playpen, you know. I can't have them wandering around unsupervised, pulling wires out."

"They're five," Obi-wan replied calmly. He was well aware he had managed to earn himself a black mark Solo's book with his earlier comment, and was going to have to earn his respect all over again. There were some cases in which Jedi robes just wouldn't do the trick. "Luke and Leia are exceptionally well behaved for their age. It's the droid you're going to have to worry about."

"We'll stick him in the cargo hold," Solo muttered as he helped Kenobi drag aboard his new crew's bags. Even the Jedi had to admit that they were traveling light.

Convincing Padme to come had probably been the easiest thing he had had to do in days. Master Yoda had allowed him to bring the young woman to their conference room and reveal the contents of the crate. Their request to store the items in the Skywalker home had been accepted with a warmth and willingness that reminded Obi-wan once again just why it was he loved his sister-in-law.

And when he had explained they had decided he would leave on the _Millennium Falcon_ to travel to the location where the artifacts had been discovered, Padme had practically demanded to go along.

They had returned to their quarters to find Threepio flustered, the twins' bags nearly packed. Young Luke had known they were leaving.

Now the boy had both his bag and his sister's weighing down his shoulders as he struggled up the ramp.

"Let me help you there, Luke," Obi-wan offered, reaching for the heavier of the two bags, but the boy shrugged and push his way forward.

"Thanks, Uncle Obi," he replied, "But I can do it."

So focused, so very determined, Obi-wan thought. It reminded him of a nine-year-old Anakin Skywalker, who had even then been resolute in his actions, had been so intent on proving to his new master that he was capable of doing his part.

"They grow up so fast," Padme sighed lovingly as she came to stand beside Obi-wan at the top of the ramp. "Hello," she smiled at the young pilot.

Han, for his part, simply stood there, his mouth half open, staring at her.

"Han, this is Padme Naberrie Skywalker. Padme, this is the pilot of this fine vessel, Captain Solo."

"A pleasure to meet you," she offered her hand.

Dumbly, Han took it. His eyes had taken on a starry look to them and he seemed practically entranced. "Honored," he finally managed. "Can I, uh, can I take your bags, milady?"

"That's very kind of you," she handed them over, grinning at the way the boy gulped when their hands briefly brushed. "You have quite a fine ship, Captain. My husband is a pilot as well, and though I don't know quite as much as him, I can tell just from looking at her that this is quite a treasure."

That just made the young man glow all the more. A second later he snapped to attention and offered a partial bow to her. "Glad you like her, milady. The _Falcon_ is one of the fastest ships in the galaxy. Chewie and I made most of the modifications ourselves. She'll get you where you're going as fast as you want and as safe as can be. You and your kids are in good hands with us."

"Wonderful. Thank you so much for offering us your services. I promise that the children and I will do our best to keep out of your way."

"No problem at all, ma'am." Han made a final half-bow and disappeared into the ship with her bags.

Obi-wan raised a hand to tug at his beard in hopes of hiding his smirk.

She noticed it anyway and elbowed him in the side. "What?" Padme demanded teasingly.

"Someone has a crush on you, I think."

"Don't be ridiculous," she giggled, enjoying the reaction she was getting from both men. "He probably thinks I'm some bedraggled woman with two young children. He's simply being polite. You might try it some time."

"No one could ever consider you bedraggled, Padme," Obi-wan corrected, then grinned again. "Except, of course, when you wake up in the morning. There have been some days when you wander into the kitchen looking for your morning coffee that if I hadn't know better I would have mistaken you for a partially shaved Wookie."

She elbowed him harder this time before striding determinedly into the ship.

* * *

I love writing the conversations between Sabe/Anakin. They just don't seem as emotional charged and as dramatically significant as the ones between Ani/Obi and Ani/Padme. I just feel like they can actually kick back, trade jokes and act like real people who aren't caught up in a galactic star battle between the forces of good and evil. She's got that my-best-friend's-girl-friend role that puts her at more of an emotional distance from him than with the others. And the Padme/Obi scenes can be fun too. I like to think that if George hadn't killed her off in the movie so the viewers wouldn't end up wondering where she had been for twenty years between films, she might have had the chance to occasionally visit Obi-wan on Tatooine and raise his spirits a little.

Well, I must say, I'm looking forward to writing the next few posts. That doesn't mean I'll get around to it right away (what with finals on the way) but having all of these characters stuck on a ship for a week together can give rise to a number of interesting scenes.

I will have that promised Sos summary up soon. I also discovered there was a final post I wrote but never put up, so that will also be attached. I was reading over it a few days ago, while deciding whether or not I had time to finish writing it, and I have to admit it ended and I was like: what? I ended here? But _I_ want to know what happened! Haha!

Thanks and ta-ta for now,

Caslia


	50. Individual Journeys: Chapter 2

Welcome back to Rebirth of the Light Series. By now there are no doubt readers who have given up on ever seeing this fic finished. For those of you still lingering, I say thank you for your patience. If there are any new readers joining us, then lucky you. That probably means you've gotten to read the revised version of the original _Rebirth of the Light_ fic, as well as the revised first chapter of _The Years Following_.

Reason for delay in writing is _not_ because of the demands of grad school or a lack of personal motivation on my part, but the evilness of my old labtop, which crashed at the end of the summer. I sent the hard drive to get the info recovered off of it (not only RotL outline, but the Sos outline as well! Damn it!) and have been waiting ever since.

Well, I got tired of waiting. I had a vague idea of what was going to happen in this chapter, but went ahead and wrote out a new outline. Now, lots of fun, exciting things are going to happen that probably weren't planned in the original plot.

Officially, this is the _LAST_ chapter of _RotL: The Years that Followed_. A reader asked me some time ago about the future scene with Luke as an adult, and couldn't I please write something more on it. Hence, I am announcing _RotL: Glimpses of the Future_ which will directly follow the last installment of this chapter (not this post, but this chapter, there's a difference.) GotF will be a _BRIEF_ 15-post fic, in which glimpses of future events in the Skywalker family's life in this AU are offered up as a sort of extended epilogue. Comments, questions, concerns and complaints about this, please post a review. Thanks and enjoy the new post. I sorry it was a long time in coming.

* * *

Chapter Nine:

_Individual Journeys_

* * *

Five Years After _Rebirth of the Light_

* * *

The _Millennium Falcon_ proved to be more than her looks. Moments after boarding and getting the twins strapped in, Padme felt the ship lift off and glide easily out of the hanger. The rebel base that was _Home One_ dropped away beneath them, and the _Falcon_ shot confidently through the atmosphere. It was the first time in four years, since the trip to Tatooine, that Padme was leaving Thanatia, and a small part of her already missed the sweeping green fields of tall grass and small groves of oak trees.

But duty called them all away. It was that, or sit quietly and wait for her wayward husband to return.

Not likely.

Just as the _Falcon_ was quickly proving to be more than it appeared, Han Solo was also clearly a better pilot that she had thought him to be. He seemed incredibly young at thirteen to be pilot of his own ship, but Padme reminded herself that she had been crowned queen of Naboo at nearly the same age, and both Anakin and Obi-wan had certainly been off on Jedi missions as Padawans at an even younger age.

At that age, she had thought herself an adult and had proven capable of the responsibilities she had taken on. It was only fair she give Han the same respect her elders had given her at the time. And his age aside, she very much liked the young man.

Luke also took a shine to the pilot. After the first few days in hyperspace, Padme felt comfortable enough letting the twins explore the ship as they pleased, and Luke had immediately made his way to the cockpit and made himself comfortable in the co-pilot's seat.

Leia had also occupied herself elsewhere, playing quietly, so Padme took the time to read over the information the Jedi Masters had given them before leaving. The data included objects of great value to look for upon arriving at the distant planet that apparently housed a secret treasure horde of Jedi artifacts. Some she recognized; others were unfamiliar, even after all the years of living with two Jedi.

And she needed to know. Because it wasn't just Anakin and Obi-wan who would be a part of her life from now on. No, now there were many Jedi. Not as many as there had been, of course, but enough, and all of them devoted to aiding the Rebellion against the Empire. If she accepted a position with Bail and the Council again, even in some small role, she would be interacting with Jedi daily. And as both a wife and mother of Jedi, she should know more about their culture. It was exciting in a way; for so long, the Jedi had kept their ways secret from those outside their order. That was no longer an option, and Padme was eager to learn.

And it kept her mind occupied, away from the thought that once again Anakin had run off without her.

She had just gotten to the part about different lightsaber techniques, something that was turning out to be far more complicated that she had imagined, when Threepio came shuffling into the lounge.

"Oh dear, oh, dear! Mistress Padme, you must speak to Mistress Leia immediately!"

Glad for the respite, Padme glanced up at the golden droid, long time companion and irritant, and offered a gracious smile. "Threepio, have the twins been playing with your wires again?"

The fussy droid struck a rather human poise, hands on his hips, head tilted to the side. "Thank the Maker, no! Last time it took Master Anakin nearly a week to readjust my wiring! I was seriously considering changing places with Artoo. All he ever does is roll around dolling out his impertinent comments as if others care what he has to say. How I miss him!"

"I'm sure Artoo misses you as well. But he hardly has the capacity to help me look after the twins."

"And what a poor babysister I make, Mistress Padme! I just can't seem to make Mistress Leia understand that attempting to braid a Wookie is not the best course of action."

"She's what?!" Padme flew up off the bench and stormed past the flustered droid. "Oh dear. Where are they?"

"The cockpit, Milady. And I must say-"

His voice fell away as Padme rounded another corner. She wasn't particularly concerned for her daughter's safety; after all, Chewbacca had served during the Clone Wars alongside Master 

Yoda, and he certainly wouldn't put up with Han as a pilot if he didn't have patience for human children. But he might take offense at Leia's innocent amusement. Though they had all gotten along quite well these last few days in hyperspace, it was still going to be a long journey; no need for any misunderstandings.

As she came around the final corner, she could hear voices and walked into the cockpit to find her son and the young Captain Solo in what was apparently a very serious conversation. In the extra seats behind the co-pilot chair, the Wookie was stretched out sideways, with his feet toward the door, and Leia in his lap.

She had a little comb in one hand, which she was running through the fur on his chest, and a ribbon ready in the other.

Chewbacca had allowed her to braid and accessorize clumps of fur from his head, where a pink bow blossomed out of dark Wookie fur, down to where her little fingers now diligently worked.

"Look, Mama!" Leia giggled when she saw her mother in the doorway. "I couldn't find the doll I packed, so Chewie is letting me practice on him."

The _Falcon_'s co-pilot gave an amused chuckle and patted the little girl's head. His soft eyes sparkled when he winked at Padme, silently telling her this was perfectly fine with him.

Relieved, Padme gave him a grateful nod.

"You needn't worry, milady," Han addressed her from the pilot's seat. "Old Chewie here has put up with a whole lot worse than a few pink ribbons. 'Sides, his coat could use a good brushing, ain't that right, pal?" The lop-sided grin he offered received another of the Wookie's deep chuckles.

"As long as my children aren't bothering you, Captain."

"Bothering me?" Han smirked, "I ain't ever seen two kids so well behaved! Luke here has got to be the smartest kid outside of the Inner Rim! He knew just about everything about the _Falcon_'s controls before I started tellin' him about them. He's gonna be a great pilot some day."

Padme looked at her son. Luke looked utterly at home sitting in the co-pilot's chair, even though it had been modified to fit Chewbacca. With his short stature, he could barely reach the controls, but Luke was intently watching everything Han was doing, from the actual piloting to monitoring the gages.

"Yes, he's a lot like his father that way."

Reaching as far as he could toward the control panel, Luke indicated a switch and looked toward his eager teacher. "What's that one do?"

"You gotta make sure you flip that one before you land. Otherwise, the belly of the hull scrapes against the ground, busting you up good. This way, landing gear's got time to snap into place. The _Falcon_'s a good ship; you take care of her, she'll take care of you. That's the relationship you've gotta have with most ships, if you wanna make it as a pilot."

Luke nodded, his five-year-old face filled with solemn concentration.

"Okay, you flip that switch before you land. But how do you take off?"

"I wouldn't worry about that, sweetheart," Padme said, smoothing her son's soft blond hair. He was so much like his father, so eager to learn, so interested in ships and spaceflight. "That's why we have Captain Solo. He knows everything there is to know about this ship and how to pilot it."

The boy turned his serious eyes on his mother. "But I'm gonna need to know, Mom."

Han laughed and ruffled his young co-pilot's hair. "Darn right you need to know how to take off, kid. How else will you ever get into the air? And that's where every pilot wants to be: space!"

The pilot continued to instruct her son in the ways of flying, smiling easily and answering all of Luke's questions. He didn't seem to mind them any more than Chewie minded Leia braiding his fur.

But a chill had crept up Padme's spine. Why did her son suddenly need to know how to fly a space craft? She had rarely seen that intent look on his face, but when she had, it had never meant anything good, at least in the short run.

Stepping out of the cockpit and leaving her children in the capable hands of the _Falcon_'s crew, Padme went looking for Obi-wan. If anyone could tell her what her son's strange premonition might mean, the Jedi Master was presently her best bet. But he was not in the quarters assigned to him, and hadn't been in the lounge. That meant he could be anywhere meditating, and on a ship the size of the _Falcon_, it would take some time to find him.

Not for the first time, Padme wished she also had that Force ability to simply know where her family members were at any given moment.

The thought of having to search for the Jedi cooled her urgency somewhat. Whatever Luke had meant by saying what he did, it was unlikely anything would come of it anytime soon. They would be in hyperspace another day or so, and Padme could not imagine a situation occurring during that time in which her son would need to take the helm, not with Han, Chewbacca, herself and Kenobi all being accomplished pilots.

Padme decided to return instead to her reading in the lounge after only a brief search. Threepio would need reassurance of his abilities as a nanny and there was no getting around those files on lightsaber techniques. Maybe later, a holo game with the children, if she could drag them away from their new friends to spend time with their mother.

Threepio was indeed still in the lounge, prattling on about something, and for a moment as she came around the corner, Padme thought he might have kept on talking after she left. It would certainly not have been the first time.

"Threepio, what are you-?"

The sight of an unknown man standing in the lounge sounded all the alarms in Padme's mind, and if he hadn't been dressed in a Jedi tunic, she would have called immediately for Solo and the Wookie. Motherly instincts irrationally demanded to know where her children were, and were they safe? Did she have a weapon on her? No, it was back in her cabin. Where was Obi-wan, why hadn't Threepio alerted her immediately?

"Mistress Padme," Threepio broke into the mental storm besieging her. "Are you quite alright?"

She opened her mouth to say no, not when there was an unknown person on board, a stowaway. A potential threat, regardless if he was wearing Jedi robes.

Then, the man's suddenly familiar face flushed the finest shade of red, and he ran an unsteady hand through his sugar-blond hair.

"Padme. What do you think?"

She gaped. "Obi-wan?"

"I had thought…well, nevermind. It looks ridiculous."

"No! No, Obi-wan, you look…" Slightly giddy with both relief and amusement, Padme managed to unglue her feet from the threshold and walk into the lounge toward her friend. As she approached, he ducked his head, grinning sheepishly. Tentatively, she reached out a hand. "It makes you look younger."

"I thought it might," Obi-wan agreed, blushing further as her fingers caressed the smoothness of his now bare chin. "I had thought-thought that maybe Sabe would prefer it. I'm afraid I know very little about what pleases…I mean, what a woman might prefer. And Threepio suggested – "

"You took dating tips from Threepio?" Padme couldn't help it; the thought was so outrageous. Even with a hand clamped over her mouth, the laugher spilled out. The Jedi's face turned an even darker shade and he pulled away.

"It's alright. I'm sure by the time I see her again, it will have had time to grow back in some."

"Oh, no, no!" She could barely manage the words between struggling for breath. He just looked so darling, the shaved chin and the sheepish look giving the usually solemn Jedi Master a boyish charm. His soft blue eyes, laden with sorrow and hardship over the years, now glistened with an easy if resigned sense of self-amusement. And for a moment, Padme was reminded of the young Jedi Padawan learner she had been introduced to on Naboo all those years ago.

How far they had come since then.

"Dear Obi-wan, I wasn't laughing at you, I swear! I think it's wonderful, really. You look adorable and I have no doubt Sabe will love it."

"Really?" It warmed her heart to see him looking so hopeful, so full of life. Her friend truly deserved this happiness.

"I'm sure of it. But why didn't you ask me instead of Threepio?" She took him by the arm and led him over to the benches. Obi-wan went willingly enough, one hand all the while rubbing at the smoothness of his face.

He gave her a look of mock-reproach. "I was sure you would laugh at me."

"Oohh," she cooed, patting his head gently, "Big, bad Padme is sorry she laughed. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. It was just such a shock. Obi-wan, what prompted this? I can't think of a single thing Sabe would want to change about you. She loves you as you are."

"So you don't like it then?"

Padme socked him good-naturedly in the arm.

* * *

_Glistening green and gold in the bitter starlight, a planet hung in the deafening silence of space. A single streak of green energy flared, vanished, only to reappear in the core of a mass of fragments and dust, fanning outward, from where moments before that green gem had been._

_The silence of space was filled with billions of voices raised in a collective death cry, ringing in his ears. Under the pain and the fear, there was something else, something worse. Their cries sang with an accusatory tone, screaming his name…_

"…Jedi Skywalker? Strike Sixteen, do you copy? Jedi Skywalker?"

Anakin awoke, disorientated, to find himself staring out the viewport of a star fighter in hyperspace and the voice of his wingman buzzing in his ear. He shook his head to clear away the lingering sense of dread from the dream.

"My apologies, Piett. I must have drifted off." And I'm really out of practice, he thought, during the Clone Wars, I would have woken up in an instant, completely recharged and alert.

But those were times before the Darkness, when the Light had come easily to him, and the Force had been always with him. And while the taint of the Darkside had all but faded from him, it had been some time since he had called on the Force as he had during those long-ago missions. Well, this would be a refresher course.

"I said, we're pulling out of hyperspace in a few minutes." Piett replied over the comm.. He paused, and Anakin could sense the other young man was taking a moment to steady himself.

I have to protect them, Anakin told himself. They may not be my men like the Clones who served under me were, but they are still looking to me to get them through this.

Composed, Piett continued. "Strike Leader has requested you contact her on your private line once you've regained your wits. I think she wants to know what you're planning."

Anakin could hear the unspoken question in the pilot's remarks and did his best to sound confident. "I plan not to get sucked into any black holes. How about you, Piett?"

The other man sounded relieved, and a little amused. "I do believe I like that plan, sir."

"We've talked about that."

"Sorry, Jedi Skywalker…er, Anakin."

Leaning forward and flipping switches on the control panel of his brand-spanking new X-wing (the part of his mind that wasn't occupied with the tremendous task that was now facing him, and the prospect of dying without apologizing to Padme for their last words to each other having been muttered in mutual annoyance, was considering the improvements he could make to these nifty new spaceships) Anakin switched over to the private channel Sabe had contacted him on a few days earlier. There was the screech of static, then the voice of his long-time friend responded in his ear.

"Strike Leader. That you, Anakin?"

"It's me. Some of your squadron have a real problem taking orders."

There was a pause. "What do you mean? These are some of the best men the Rebellion has to offer."

"Then why," he joked, "can't I get them to stop calling me 'sir'? We've been in hyperspace for nearly a week now. "

Sabe laughed, though he could sense she was still tense. "Anakin Skywalker, the infamous Jedi Knight and Hero With no Fear, is resentful of being shown some respect? How the years have changed you."

"Is it too much to be asked to be treated like one of the team?" Taking a deep breath, Anakin let his smile fall away and turned to the seriousness of their situation. "And we're going to need to work as a team if we're going to pull this off, Sabe. The Force will guide me, but I can't respond to it _and_ keep an eye on everyone else at the same time."

"What can I do to help?"

"Make sure everyone understands that their wingman is their responsibility. Partner everyone into pairs; you take Piett and let me fly lead."

"I'm the one leading this mission, Skywalker."

He ignored the warning in her voice. "And if this mission was taking us into any place other than the Maw, I would certainly concede to your superior position of authority. We go in, I'm leading, then you and Piett follow in behind, flying side by side. The same with the two that come after you, so we make a single line. Everybody keep an eye on their wingman to be sure they aren't drifting, fly only where the pair in front of them has flown, and follow my orders. We work together, just like a good squadron does in a dogfight, and you take command again when the station comes into view. Agreed?"

She had little choice to do otherwise. Almost as one, the squadron came shooting out of hyperspace, into a part of space Anakin had never been to before, the Maw always having been thought of as a galactic anomaly and a great waste of space. But as it filled his viewport, it seemed like anything but that.

There were still stars, shining eternally, harboring life somewhere off in the great vastness of space. But in between those brilliant glimmers of light, there were spaces of emptiness. Not the emptiness usually associated with space; this was a real _emptiness_, a black void, as though hundreds of huge somethings were blocking out the stars in random places. It could hardly be called a waste of space, because that space had been taken up by _something_, just not a something that could ever support life.

And somewhere in there, in the midst of all that darkness, there was a space station. And a technological creation that had the ability to make his nightmares a reality.

"Alright, everybody knows the plan," Anakin said after Sabe had announced he was taking lead and had explained how they were to all enter the Maw. She seemed far more willing to hand over 

control now that they were actually facing their destination. "Questions, comments, concerns? Nausea?"

"No, sir," Piett replied, ever stalwart.

"We're right behind you, Anakin." Tash added. "Lead on."

And he did, praying to the Force as the edges of the Maw enveloped them that he really was the greatest pilot in the galaxy that he claimed to be.

* * *

Bail knew he was getting old.

When Palpatine had first proclaimed himself Emperor, the senator had felt passion burning in his chest, felt his blood course with righteous fury. He had sworn he would fight this tyranny until the day either justice was restored to the galactic government, or his body was no longer able to contain the fire of his revolutionary spirit.

It was only six years later, however, and his bones were creaking in protest, his body protesting the stress and sleepless nights, his fire having burned out and left him with only the comfort of quiet embers.

It had been a tremendous relief to him and the others when Darth Vader renounced his Sith Master and had brought with him the resources, funds and support the Rebellion needed to survive. The stress of those early years had left their mark on Organa, but in the last few days, it had been lifted even further. Skywalker's recent announcement of the Emperor's assassination had been a blessed event, and Bail had left he could take a little time to himself. He was therefore planning on returning to Alderaan, his home that, despite being the prince regime, he rarely had time to visit.

"It's time I remind myself why this war is worth fighting," he muttered to himself as he stowed the last few items in the back of his personal starfighter. Normally, he flew around the galaxy like any other self-respecting politician in a craft comprised of a pilot, a lounge, fresher, and personal quarters. But when attending a meeting at Home One base on Thanatia, he preferred a spaceship that could defend itself. Should there be an Imperial attack, he wanted his ship available to any additional pilot to make use of in a dogfight.

He sighed to himself. The Clone Wars, and now this galactic civil war. Would it ever end?

"End it will," a voice behind Bail croaked, "though live to see it, some of us might not."

Startled, Bail spun around to find the diminutive Jedi Master Yoda, one of the last remaining Council Members, hobbling towards him on his gnarled gimmer stick.

"Master Yoda, you startled me."

"Apologize, I do, for a long time friend to the Jedi, have you been. But ask your help again, Senator Organa, I must."

Frowning, Organa reached for the last of his belonging and tossed them up into the back of his ship's storage compartment. "I'm sorry, Master Yoda, but I am taking some personal time. Perhaps Padme can help you."

"Gone," the Jedi replied, leaning heavily on his stick, looking up at Bail with curiously bright eyes. "Gone she is, with Master Kenobi. On a mission for the Jedi, they are. But danger, I have seen in their future. Act, we must, to ensure that the end of this terrible war, they too live to see."

As always the fact that the other being knew what he had been thinking threw Bail, but he quickly recomposed himself. "I am sorry to hear that, Master. But I am long overdue for a trip home."

"Mmm, yes. Home." Yoda nodded, looking down. He had that way about him that no matter the topic of conversation, Bail always got the feeling Yoda was seriously considering it, and somehow seemed to know more than Organa on the issue. Suddenly, the little Jedi looked up at him, an urgency humming about him. "Why fight, do you?" he asked.

Bail felt that energy being transferred to him, either through the Force, or through some unconscious response he was having to the elderly Jedi Master, he didn't know.

He was old, yes. And he was tired. And he had faced and seen a lot of horrible things. And there may still be plenty of those to come.

But he was still fighting.

"To keep innocents from suffering. To give hope to a brighter future."

Yoda nodded in response. "Need help, Lady Skywalker and Master Kenobi will need."

Bail found himself nodding, and somewhere inside him, those embers gave way to a bright flicker of flame.

"I think I know of someone we can talk to."

* * *

"Uhhh…" Han muttered as they all gathered in the cockpit to stare out the viewport. "That wasn't here last time."

The planet below them was a dusty rogue, blotched with huge crevices and mountain ranges that tore up the landscape so severely that they could be seen from space like rigged scars and pot marks. No information could be found on the planet within the databases (whether because it had never deserved the attention of galactic forces or because the Emperor had had it erased from the systems, it was unknown) so what little was known about it was what Han had seen and learned from the natives on his earlier visit. There was some water on planet, from salty underground lakes, and very little vegetation, given the poor and porous nature of the land.

As in hospitable as the planet sounded, it was what hung about it that had given everyone pause.

Cutting into the backdrop of stars like a knife, the sharp blade-shape of an Imperial Star Destroyer hovered just outside the planet's orbit. A multitude of tie fighters, the Empire's short range fighters, buzzed about, giving the impression of a busy hive of cruel intentions. Some appeared to be doing nothing more heinous than running drills, but full squadrons could be seen swooping down and entering the planet's atmosphere.

"Turn around," Obi-wan instructed, his voice sharp and hard. "Get us back into hyperspace, now."

"What? Obi-wan, no." Padme turned to him, took him by the arm. "We can't go back now."

The Jedi Master, more the warrior that he had been during the Clone Wars now then the congenial friend of these past six years, gave her a stern look. "The planet is no doubt crawling with Imperials by now. We cannot risk being caught, regardless of Palpatine's death. Padme, think of your children."

"Mine, and all the others," she insisted, voice and body rigid with determination. "If the Empire discovers those artifacts, they will destroy them, there is no question about that. They will 

destroy them either out of fear for the Jedi, or out of ignorance, but either way, you will lose what you need to rebuild the Order, to give Luke and Leia, and the other younglings the tools they need to become Jedi Knights. The future of the Rebellion and therefore the galaxy may very well rely on what is waiting for us down there."

Han, who had been flipping switches and closely monitoring the frequencies until this moment, swerved in his pilot's chair to face the two of them. It was too his credit that the situation didn't appear to unnerve him in the least. "Her ladyship's got a point."

"Be that as it may," Obi-wan didn't even glance at the boy, staring intently at his sister-in-law. "it is _dangerous_, Padme. You will be putting the twins at serious risk."

Luke and Leia, sitting in the cockpit's extra seats, were quiet. The girl's eyes had gone wide, but she had stuck her chin out in that defiant manner that Anakin always told his wife their daughter had gotten from her. Their son was looking, of all places, at Han, watching as the pilot turned back to the control panel.

Her motherly instincts told her to order Han to turn the _Falcon_ around, to get them back into hyperspace and the safety of Thanatia. She wanted to scoop her children up and tuck them into the quiet and seclusion that was their cottage home, to hide them away until the galaxy was a peaceful place. But the galaxy had never been a peaceful place, even before the blockade of Naboo, where it seemed all of this had first started.

Obi-wan must have seen that look in her eyes, known from the tilt of her own chin that Padme had reached her decision and could not be swayed. He sighed, looking aged despite the youthful appearance his new shave had given him.

"I find it a miracle Anakin managed to keep you from getting killed during the wars." He said simply.

"Anakin's and my relationship work because he knows not to try and tell me what to do," Padme replied, already mentally listing what would need to be done before they set down on the 

unknown planet. She would have to change into some pants, find a belt to strap her blaster to her thigh. Perhaps Han had an extra one she could borrow. "Captain Solo, take us down."

"Yes, ma'am."

They managed easily enough to slip around to the other side of the planet before making a descent into the atmosphere. Solo had had plenty of practice, during his short run as a freelancer and now as a smuggler working for the Rebellion, in avoiding Imperial attention. The _Falcon_ lowered herself through the atmosphere with an grace that belied her age and appearance, and as the small crowd in the cockpit watched, the land beneath them took on detail.

Mountain ranges crawled like rigid, angry scars across the skin of the planet. Where the tectonic plates had split so far apart in their epic battle to mount on another, crevices thousands of kilometers deep split the terrain. Between these juts and rips, there were arid sections of dry ground with only occasional spots of vegetation.

"I don't see any settlements," Padme observed as they sunk lower. "Where do the inhabitants live?"

"They're a humanoid species, far as I could tell," Han replied. His copilot barked harshly and then keened slightly. "Chewie says they smelled more or less human too. Most of 'em live in the mountains."

"I can't imagine anyone managing to live on those cliffs and peaks."

"Nah, your ladyship, I mean they live _in_ the mountains." Translating for Chewbacca, Han continued his impromptu lecture. "See, most of the rock and minerals are really porous here, 'swhy nothing really grows much. So the mountains, they got these huge caverns in 'em, where its cool and damp, so all the moisture accumulates there. The people live where the water is. And, those caves make the perfect hiding place too, 'cause unless you know how to pass through those peaks and gullies to get to the insides, you're out of luck."

Then there was hope that the Empire hadn't been here long enough to find the Jedi artifacts. Wherever they had been hidden, it was likely to be someplace only the locals would have access to. Padme could only hope they had not coerced the inhabitants into serving them, or the locals had mistaken the Imperials for friends and simply led them, as they had Han and Chewbacca, to the Jedi relics.

"Here we are." Han set the _Falcon_ down nice and easy on the edge of one of the numerous ranges after checking his coordinates to be sure they were in the right place.

"I don't approve of this," Obi-wan said as he followed Padme back toward the quarters where her blaster and change of clothes were waiting. "I cannot protect you, Padme."

"How is this any different from the missions you and Anakin went on during the wars?" She replied. She stepped into her room to change, but left the door open. Obi-wan stood beside it, facing the other direction, embarrassed despite the risky situation they were now in and the years they had spent living in the same house. Even when she was irritated with him, he managed to earn back her affections through his instinctual manners.

"I don't mean to sound arrogant about Force sensitivity, Padme, but Anakin was a Jedi. I could trust him to look after himself –"

"I can take care of myself just fine, thank you."

" –_and_ there were times I had to come and rescue him regardless –"

"Then you have my word I will save myself should the need arise."

"–_and as Jedi_, we were willing to sacrifice ourselves to ensure the success of a mission, and I'm not about to let anything happen to you or the twins," he turned now that she was decent and leaned against the door frame, his now-soft voice conveying his worry and care, "not even for the most treasured relics of the Order. Please, Padme. Think about this."

She was quiet for a moment, fingering the blaster strapped to her hip that she hadn't worn in ages. In a way, it felt good to be in danger again. It felt good to be _doing something_, fighting for what she believed in, rather than just standing on the sidelines and hoping others would accomplish what needed to be done to secure her children's future.

"You know," she said at last, "I have been angry at Anakin this past week. Ever since I learned he had left without me, without even saying goodbye, I have been furious at him being the hero first and the husband second. And that is unfair of me."

Obi-wan stood quietly, uncertain of where this was going.

"He went because he needed to, because there was something, some secret mission, that needed a Jedi. And because it was dangerous and he wouldn't let Sabe face it alone. So," she finished, grabbing a small pack that could be filled with water, rations and basic medical supplies, "I hope you understand when I say that I appreciate your concern, Obi-wan, but I am not letting _you_ go off alone."

The Jedi Master smiled half-heartedly. "I see. So this is all for my sake."

"Absolutely." As she pushed past him, Padme grinned. "You can say all you want about your having to rush to Anakin's rescue, but I've heard his version of those stories, and you need someone there to come to your rescue on occasion."

Though he had not thought it possible, Obi-wan felt his admiration for his brother's wife increase ten-fold. In minutes she had the twins instructed on how to behave and Threepio rounded up to translate for the growing number of locals waiting with Han at the bottom of the ramp.

They were a scraggily looking bunch, in Kenobi's opinion, wearing animal hides that had been tanned and sewn to ragged pieces of cloth. They had adorned themselves with what looked like small bones and bits of fur, and walked barefoot on the infertile earth. What was most strange was that they had a sheen of blue coloring about them, which at first made Obi-wan think them to be humanoids with teal-colored skin. Men and women of various ages, about twelve in all, had come out to meet Han and Chewbacca, carrying weapons but not brandishing them in an aggressive manger. Obi-wan sensed they were wary, but in general meant no harm.

"It's all right," Han explained as the _Falcon_'s passengers joined him, "these are the guys we talked to last time."

An older man, face ragged from the no doubt harsh life of the planet, offered a half bow and muttered something none of them could understand.

"I'm thinking that means 'nice to meet you, got food?'" Han joked.

"What did he say?" Padme asked Threepio.

The golden droid, almost malfunctioning in his delight to be reinstated as a diplomat, waved his arms in enthusiasm. "Oh, Mistress Padme! How wonderful! He bids us welcome!"

"That's nice, Threepio. Please inform the gentleman that we mean no harm to his people. Explain to him that Master Kenobi here is a representative of the Jedi Order."

"At once, Milady." He rambled off as serious of mumbled gibberish at different pitches that sounded something like bird worble. The man who had clearly been chosen as the representative of the group, grew animated as Threepio spoke. He looked first to Obi-wan, then back to the droid, then at his fellows, and then back at Obi-wan, interrupting Threepio constantly in his excitement.

"Fascinating," Threepio reported back when the exchange had concluded. "This gentleman is Nantook, a very venerated individual among his people, who are known in these parts as the Blue Dust."

"Blue Dust?" Well, that would account for their coloring, and now that Obi-wan knew what to look for, he could see the mineral covered not only Nantook's skin, but lightly dusted his clothing and weapon as well.

"Nantook is very excited that you are here, Master Kenobi. He seems to be quite familiar with Jedi."

"Perhaps some came here during the Clone Wars?" Padme wondered.

If they had, Obi-wan didn't know, but then the wars had been spread across the galaxy, and he and Anakin had been focused solely on the missions they were personally sent on. He could not think of a reason the Council would have sent a Jedi, and numerous precious Jedi artifacts, to this planet on the edge of the Unknown Regions. Perhaps it was not a recent event; perhaps Jedi had come here a century ago, ten centuries ago, however far back. Or some rogue that the Order knew nothing of. Too many questions and the only way to get answers was to push onwards.

"Can he take us to the cavern where Captain Solo found the holocons and lightsabers?"

Nantook, through Threepio, explained. "We cannot take you there. Others have come to the planet, others who our elders tell us are here to hurt our people and take our lands. We want nothing to do with them, or with you. But, you are a Jedi, and those items belong to Jedi. So, we will let the boy," he gestured to Han, "lead you, since he knows the way. No member of the Blue Dust clan will hinder you, but neither will we become involved."

"We understand," Padme replied. "But there are children traveling with us." She wrapped her arms protectively around the shoulders of Luke and Leia. "It would be too dangerous for them to travel with us into the mountains, and we cannot leave them here alone."

"There is a cave just wide enough for your ship to fit. The children may stay there with the rest of the clan," Nantook agreed, smiling kindly at the twins. Leia looked up questioningly at her mother, but Luke nodded.

"I think that's a good idea." He smiled at Padme, "We'll be fine, Mom."

"And Chewie here will look after them." Han added, eager to please the former Senator. Chewbacca wailed and growled furiously in response, waving his massive arms and baring his teeth. Han ducked away, holding up his hands in submission. "Hey, pal, don't get mad at me! It's a good plan. Look, the kids here need looking after. I'll be fine and – hey, don't make that face at me – you _know_ how long it took last time to get all that blue dust out of your fur. 'Sides, someone's gotta stay here and look after my lady." He was referring to the _Falcon_, but Chewie didn't look like he was going to so easily persuaded.

"Listen here, cub – "

"You have my word, friend Chewbacca," Obi-wan offered, hoping he didn't become a target of the Wookie's ire, "that young Solo will be under my protection. I will look after him as though he were my own padawan."

Chewie considered that for a moment, then gave a gruff woof in agreement.

"What's a padawan?" Han asked, looking uncomfortable with the notion.

He looked even more uncomfortable as the _Falcon_, with Chewie piloting and little Luke barely seen in the cockpit sitting in the co-pilot's seat, rose off the ground and flew low along the edge of the mountain range. There, at the cave Nantook had spoken of, they would set her down and make nice with the clan while Padme, Obi-wan and Han trekked into the mountains, following the route Han had been shown on his last visit.

The welcome party dispersed after wishing them well on their journey.

"Off on another adventure," Padme said, hefting her bag and falling in step behind Solo. Obi-wan joined her so they walked side by side, and she offered him a brilliant smile. "Just like old times."

Considering the misadventures, scrapes and near-death experiences of his and Anakin's Jedi missions, Obi-wan hoped not.

* * *

For those of you who have read the _Star Wars: Dark Empire_ comic book series probably read this and thought: hey! But guess what; I don't have my books with me, so that's why I ran with the general idea, but no doubt got all the details wrong.

More soon,

Caslia


	51. Individual Journeys: Chapter 3

You'll have to let me know how you feel about Obi-wan in this post. I am trying to keep him in character, but also let that character evolve. He's changing from the Jedi Master we're all familiar with from RotS; after all, he's helped raise two children, spent the last six years as a member of a very close family, and has finally allowed himself to fall in love (and admit to it). So while he is still the dry-humored, occasionally solemn Jedi Master we all know and love, I am allowing him to be a little softer and a little cheekier in this post than usual. Comments on this development are greatly appreciated.

* * *

Chapter Nine:

_Individual Journeys_

* * *

Five Years After _Rebirth of the Light_

* * *

"We're going to get caught."

"We're not going to get caught."

"Shut up, both of you, or we _will_ get caught." Ashia glared at her two Jedi companions as they passed through the shadows of pillars in what had once been the Jedi Temple. She had little time, now or when not on a mission, for the squabbling that seemed the basis for Reckin and Belav's relationship.

"I don't see why we're creeping about like this," Reckin muttered. "The Emperor is dead, and his cronies that have taken power aren't Force sensitive. We're in the clear here, Ashia."

Just then, two lines of stormtroopers came marching into view and passed right by the Jedi's hiding place. With the use of the Force, it was easy to distinguish whom among the helmeted 

troops were original clone warriors, and who were eager Imperials who had signed on for the duty. It would seem that Sidious still retained some favor among Imperial citizens if beings other than clones served the Empire.

Ashia glanced over to give her friend with a searing look that said without words: that's why! The plan was to get in and find the Jedi children Jedi Skywalker had spoken of, but Ashia had learned very quickly that plans were not reliable, and the last thing she wanted was to find herself surrounded by entire legions of storm troopers and only three lightsabers between the would-be rescuers.

Getting through Coruscant air security and then into the Imperial Palace had been easy. It helped that a smuggler working for the Rebellion had offered them use of his ship, and from there it had all been about knowing the old passages through the once-magnificent temple. They came up from the Lower Levels, using service entrances, making their way up until they could feel the distant pulse of tiny Force presences with potential. Ashia, the more powerful of the three and therefore the leader in all situations, had sensed eight younglings.

"More than half a dozen," Reckin grinned, "not bad." Belav, the quiet, damaged one among them, said nothing. She had seen her first master cut down right before her eyes in these very halls. It was an event that had stayed with her.

It had been seven years since the Purge. It had lasted less than a year, what with Skywalker's redemption leaving Palpatine with only a handful of Force adepts. They had proven weak, and over the last few years, Ashia and the other remaining Jedi had actively sought their destruction.

The fewer allies the Sith Master had, the better. But none of the Jedi had ever supposed that Palpatine had been secretly adopting Force sensitive children into his services. If the Darkside could twist a man like Anakin Skywalker to its will, it was unimaginable what could be done to the innocent minds and souls of untrained younglings.

All the more reason for them to find these younglings and get out of the Imperial Palace as quickly as possible.

"Let's move," she whispered to the other two now that the troopers had passed.

They crept further into the bowels of the Palace, following the tiny glow that was the younglings' light. Every room they passed, every hallway navigated, was like the burn of a lightsaber against unprotected skin.

This had been their home.

Now, it was darkened and eerie, and everywhere they looked, the Imperial symbol had been hung, or stamped, or carved, as if to lay claim to every inch of what had once belonged to the Jedi Order. There was nothing here to ever suggest they had run through these halls in their days before being chosen by masters. No ghost of their youth wandered past them. If they had not known this had once been the Jedi Temple, they never would have guessed at its original purpose other than to house the Empire's dark master.

"It's cold. So like and not like a tomb," Belav whispered in her strange way, "The slate has been wiped clean."

"Hush up," Ashia ordered, not unkindly. They had made their way down one of the corridors leading to the old living quarters reserved for younglings without masters. All total, there were eight Force presences, all dimmed as the children slept.

Reckin, with Belav in tow, moved further down the hallway to the last rooms housing the younglings. He glanced momentarily at Ashia, who offered an encouraging nod before disappearing into the first room.

Curled asleep in the bed was a little human girl, probably some six years of age, though Ashia, being humanoid herself, knew it was hard to be sure. The darkness was interrupted only by the soft light shining from where the Jedi had entered the dormitories, but it was enough for Ashia to see the luxurious shine of the girl's red-gold hair, watch her chest rise and fall with easy breathes.

Most reassuring of all, the girl had no taint of Darkness to her aura, merely a gleam of gray that suggested she was accustomed to fear, and probably physical pain. Not unexpected from having grown up under the Sith's watchful eye.

It made Ashia shiver, thinking of Belav, and how these children might all suffer the same emotional trauma that had afflicted her friend.

Regretting having to interrupt her peaceful slumber, she reached out a hand and touched the girl lightly on the shoulder.

The youngling stilled. Her Force senses must have assured her there was no threat, since she rolled over and stared Ashia directly in the face, challengingly.

The Jedi smiled, an unusual expression for her. This one, at least, had some fight left in her.

"I am a Jedi. You are to come with me."

* * *

It became almost instantly clear that Threepio could not travel with the group with any ease. While he could easily scuffle through the grasses of Thanatia, the rocky terrain of this unnamed planet was well beyond his capabilities.

Han had a brilliant suggest that all three humans eagerly agreed to.

"Mistress Padme, surely you won't allow this!" Threepio wailed, waving his arms and looking utterly distraught despite the fact his expression could never change. "It is _quite_ undignified!"

"You're less likely to get dust in your system this way," she offered kindly, all the while silently praising Han for his scheme. It would be easier if Chewbacca had come along with them, but they would have to make do. "Captain Solo is being very generous."

"That's right, Golden Rod," Han smirked as he pulled some netting out of his pack. "Could have left you back there with the natives. You want me to tell you what they do to droids? Especially annoying chatterboxes?"

Threepio practically sputtered. "Captain, I'll have you know that my serves are considered highly valuable on this expedition – "

"All the more reason for you to just relax until we get to where we're going," Han replied, and with that, reached up and flipped the switch that deactivated the droid. Threepio froze in place, head lowered and lights darkened. "There now, that's better." In a matter of moments, they had Threepio bent in half and secured in the net. With Obi-wan's help, Han was able to lift the droid onto his back and secure him in place like a large, metallic pack.

"Right then," Han grunted as they started off again. "Guess this is what Chewie meant when he suggested I offer to pull a little extra weight."

Within moments of entering the crevice that would lead them to the mountain's hidden entrance, they were cocooned in heavy shadows. There was no easy going; boulders and gravel had built up over time between the peaks, so that each step was treacherous. The air had a dry, chalky quality to it, and everywhere there was blue dust, rising up as the group walked and clinging to them. It smudged their cheeks, perched almost like snowflakes on their hair, and dug in under their fingernails.

Obi-wan could only hope the dust didn't find a way into the mechanics of their blasters and lightsaber. Or somehow taint their water supply, for that matter.

"How much further?" he coughed. Solo had assured him that the dust hadn't had any ill effects on his or the Wookie's health, but Kenobi didn't like the rasp that had settled into his chest since entering the mountains.

"Another couple hundred meters," Solo replied. He paused to allow Obi-wan to crawl between a large boulder and the cliff side first, then assisted Padme before squeezing him and Threepio through. "No worries, your ladyship," he grinned at her, his teeth gleaming a slight blueish-gray in the muted light, "we get out of this gully pretty soon and then duck underground. It'll be easier going after that."

"Thank you, Captain." But she shot the Jedi a look that suggested he had better not comment on how hard the terrain was for her to navigate. Obi-wan hid a smile by turning and continuing on ahead. Well, she had wanted to come, and there had been no stopping her.

"Bet you're used to this sort of thing," Solo continued, not noticing the silent exchange. "What with you both having fought in the Clone Wars and all."

"You remember the wars?" Padme asked, somewhat surprised. The boy could be no older than thirteen, more mature than her twins by some years, but still a child.

"Enough," Han replied gruffly, hitching himself and his burden over the embankment they had been climbing. The gravel beneath his feet gave way on the other side and he started to slide, but Padme reached out and grabbed his hand. He smiled a grateful, lopsided grin back up at her. Together, they picked their way.

"Most of what I saw of the war was on the holonet. Can't say I remember anything of the Republic before that, seeing as I was just a tyke when things started to unravel. Didn't really follow it much either; everybody on Nal Hutta was just a little busy trying to survive, so galactic events weren't really the hot button topic. But I remember the day his Highness became his Highness, and the Jedi got put at the top of the most-wanted-dead list." Han was quiet for a moment, navigating some rocky footing, his young face furrowed in thought. "Dark days," he said at last.

"Yes, they were." Padme felt a welling up of sympathy for this young man. It was clear he was jaded, and he probably had every right to be if he had grown up on Nal Hutta. His view of the galaxy was filled with constant and eternal strife, having never known the peace of the years before Palpatine's rise to power.

Even with the return of the Jedi, and the death of the Emperor, that didn't mean there wouldn't be more fighting in the future between Rebel and Imperial forces. Padme's own children might end up living in the same war-torn galaxy as Solo had always known.

Belatedly, she wondered where Han's mother was, and if she knew the danger her son was willingly putting himself in to help Padme and Obi-wan.

Up ahead, Obi-wan vaulted over a boulder the size of five banthas with the help of the Force. He landed with a defining crunch of boots against gravel, creating a sudden cloud of blue dust to rise up and nearly smother him. He coughed and waved his hand to dispel it, grateful he had left his Jedi cloak on board the _Falcon_. It would have made all this climbing business awkward, and would have been a real bother to clean.

"How are we to get over?" Padme shouted to him, her voice sounding hushed from the other side.

"Give me a moment," he replied. Obi-wan critically scrutinized the boulder. Its edges were locked into a resilient grind with the unrelenting walls of the crevice, and gravel had fallen in underneath to practically bury the bottom half of the gigantic rock. He was about to shout over to Solo to ask how the boy had gotten across the first time, when an uneasiness settled over his shoulders.

"Padme, get down – !"

The warning came just a moment before another voice shouted out an order, and suddenly men came flying out of the cliff ledge above them to land on both sides of the massive boulder. Obi-wan's lightsaber was in his hand in an instant, the blade lighting up the muted shadows of the crevice. From out of the shadows came familiar figures, and the familiar shapes of blasters all pointed at him.

On the other side, he could hear Han letting loose a volley of laser fire along with a series of colorful Huttes curses. His blaster was joined by the whine of Padme's, the only immediate indication the Jedi had that they were both alive.

Obi-wan swung at the closest stormtrooper, decapitating him even as the Jedi turned to deflect a volley of laser blasts. Silently he cursed himself for not having paid more attention. The darkness of the gully, combined with the blue dust that clung to everything so that no individual color or texture could be defined, had hidden the usually gleaming-white armor of the Imperial forces. It could not have been a trap, as the Imperials had no knowledge of what the planet hid or that Rebel forces would be coming to retrieve it, but it was a perfect place for an ambush nonetheless.

It took no more than a matter seconds for the blaster bolts that had been aimed at him to zing off his lightsaber and take down their owners, another heartbeat to slice through the armor of the others. Kenobi did not like having to kill these troopers, clones who were just following orders, whom he might have fought beside during the wars.

But he could hear Padme, and their pilot, on the other side of the boulder, the squeal of laser fire.

With his opponents discharged, Obi-wan took a flying leap and soared over, landing with a flourish of his weapon that even Anakin, who was all for dramatic presentation, would have admired.

The troopers immediately turned their attention away from where Solo and Padme crouched, shooting from behind the safety of a smaller boulder, and began to open fire on Kenobi. There were fewer on this side than there had been on his, and his friends had already managed to take out quite a few. Their bodies lay twisted in odd angles among the gravel, the blue dust settling as if their death shrouds.

Obi-wan added the last of the troopers to that number.

Breathing hard, harder than he would have only a few years earlier (Force, he was getting old if a single brigade wore him out), Obi-wan extinguished his lightsaber, plunging the gorge into even darker gloom.

"Everyone all right?" he called, making his way over the boulders that had served the others as cover.

"Just fine," Padme muttered.

"Your ladyship – "

"I'm fine, Han. Really."

Obi-wan sighed and clambered around the rocks to crouch down beside her. "Let me see." He reached out and gently probed at the burn mark that had barely crested her right shoulder. Padme winced and sucked in a harsh breath through her teeth. It looked bad, the skin and muscle having suffered damage, and he sent reassuring waves to her through the Force as he slid the charred fabric away to further scan the injured area.

"Stop that," she muttered through clenched teeth.

Obi-wan glanced up. "Stop what?"

"That. You think after living with you and Anakin all these years, I don't know when you're trying to influence me with the Force? Sending warm, calm feelings?"

Obi-wan couldn't help but smirk, amused that she could so easily deduce what he was doing.

"It seemed you ducked just in time."

Padme glared at him. "I thought we had an agreement. Any saving that I needed to be done, I would do it myself."

"You'll have to forgive me," Obi-wan smiled slightly, gently pressing his hand against the wound and encouraging the Force to begin the healing process. She nearly lurched away from him, the instinct to avoid further pain overriding her manual control, but Han grabbed Padme by her upper arms and held her in place. After a moment, Obi-wan was able to close his hand fully around her shoulder, deepening the effects of the Force.

"Uhh!" Padme bit her lower lip, tears squeezing out from between her clenched eyelids. She kicked slightly, sending gravel and blue dust flying upwards. "I hate this planet. I hate this stupid mission and those stupid troopers and a tiny part of me even hates _you_," she told Kenobi.

Obi-wan nodded solemnly, deeply emphasizing with her.

"I know. I promise, from now on, you can rescue all of us and I won't interfere."

At last, he pulled away, unable to do more. His healing abilities had always been limited, but the laser had more or less cauterized the wound, so there was little to do now other than blind it to keep the blue dust out, and allow the Force to do its work in healing. From the medical pouch Padme had had the foresight to pack, Obi-wan removed the bacta pack and sterile gauze, and applied it as carefully but snuggly as possible around her shoulder.

Without waiting for her approval, Obi-wan gathered Padme into his arms, a most intimate embrace that at one time would have made him blush profusely, but now comforted him, his sister-in-law's heartbeat so close to his. He rose and looked again at the massive boulder standing in their way.

"Hold on," he instructed, calling the Force to his aid.

"What are you – ?" Padme started to ask, but the question disintegrated into a screech as Obi-wan, with Padme clinging to him, took a running leap and was suddenly airborne up and over the rock. They hung for just a moment on the other side before gravity compelled them back to earth, and they handed with a mighty crunch and a burst of dust. The gravel beneath their feet gave way and for a moment it seemed they would fall, but the Force balanced them at the last second, and with as much grace as he could muster, Obi-wan gently helped Padme to stand on her own.

"Did that hurt any?"

"Just my pride. Go get Han so we can hurry up and get out of here."

"Nuh-uh!" The boy's voice, despite being muffled by the massive rock between them, still managed to sound offended. "No one is lifting me up and flying over no rock! I'm just going to use these here hand holds on the wall me and Chewie were shown last time."

Padme turned to the Jedi. "Hand holds?"

* * *

Before too much longer, the gully narrowed as the mountains on either side merged into a larger mountain range. Rather than rising in altitude, however, Obi-wan began to realize that they were actually decreasing, sinking further and further into the earth's embrace. The darkness of the crevice became almost suffocating, as the blue dust thickened and the sky above was rooted out with the enclosing sides of the cliffs above. Eventually, even the tiniest bit of sky vanished as the cliff walls merged and what had previously been a fracture in the mountains transformed into the opening of a cave.

From his pack, Obi-wan brought forth glow rods and passed one to each of his companions. They shown an eerie green hue in the smothering enclosure, blending with the blue dust to bathe them all in a shimmering teal brilliance.

Han took the lead, and Obi-wan silently applauded the boy's bravery. Though his Force senses were now on full alert, there was no way to know exactly what or who might be lurking in the darkness. As he understood it, the mountains' caves formed a huge honeycomb-like structure, connected through natural passages ways, such as the one they were presently using to locate the cavern where the Jedi artifacts had been stored. Obi-wan could not detect any dangers nearby, but that didn't mean there wasn't something else they might encounter further in.

It was impossible to tell how much time passed in the darkness. As Han lead the way, with Threepio staring blankly back at them, and Obi-wan concentrated on the security of the group, Padme was left to let her mind wander. The crunch of gravel was replaced with the soft tread of boots on smooth clay, and the only other sound to be heard was the harsh breathing of the men ahead of her.

Her shoulder pained her to no end, but she was determined not to mention it or even let it show. Obi-wan's efforts might have healed the worst of the damage, but the area still throbbed, forcing her to carry her glow rod in her right hand and leave her blaster at her hip. Her thoughts tumbled about, from the constant ache, to shadows that darted in front and to the sides of her, to the moment back in the crevice when the troopers had descended from the cliffs.

She had not been afraid. Padme knew from years of experience that while fear could keep you alive, it could also make you lose your head. Her body had switched to auto control, ducking for cover and whipping out her blaster to return fire. Being wounded was also not unfamiliar for her, and adrenaline had rushed in to mask the pain until Obi-wan arrived and forced her to take notice of her injuries.

When her mind had switched off of survival instinct, however, Padme began to process the events, and a small ache settled just behind her breast bone.

What if she had died? What if she hadn't reacted fast enough? What of Luke and Leia, of Anakin? Her last words to him had been once of annoyance, irritation. How would he have reacted to her death? Padme envisioned Obi-wan abandoning his mission to find the Jedi artifacts, carrying her body back to the _Falcon_, and from there, returning her to Thanatia, where he would await the return of his brother, all the while blaming himself for not having protected her.

Padme felt extremely foolish, even though she realized the emotion was partly due to a small dose of self-pity caused by her injury. She had ulterior reasons for wanting to come on this mission other than to aid the Jedi. She had wanted to spite her husband, and to prove to herself she hadn't lost her edge. As good as it felt to be doing something, as much as she wanted to be here to support Obi-wan, Padme realized belatedly that she might very well be more of a burden than aid. There were certainly other things she could do to help the Jedi, help the Rebel Alliance even, that did not involved cavorting around on dangerous missions, _with two children in tow, _simply to make herself feel like she was a part of the team.

"Obi-wan?" she whispered into the dark.

The Jedi didn't pause, but turned slightly to smile at her through the gloom. "Padme, are you alright? Is your shoulder bothering you?"

"No. Well, only a little. I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

"Sorry?"

"Yes, for being so foolhardy and stubborn about this whole thing."

The Jedi smirked, a look he was usually able to hide behind his goatee. "To be honest, I expected nothing less of you, Padme. In fact, I even told Master Yoda you would insist on coming along, that it was best if you did so you wouldn't go running off after Anakin or myself on your own." He glanced back at her again, the dim light of the glow stick giving his grin a devilishly gleeful quality. "You are, by nature, a troublesome woman."

"And I'm sorry also," she added, ignoring his dig, "for saying I hated you while you were healing my wound. That was terribly unfair of me. You know I love you, don't you?"

Obi-wan frowned, and stopped their eternal march to turn and face her full on in the murk. "Padme? Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"Oh course I am!" Unable to help herself, Padme stomped her foot and glared at the Jedi Master before sighing. "I was just thinking, my last words to Anakin were hardly kind."

"I'm sure he forgave you instantly. Anakin can hold nothing against you." He reached out, careful of her shoulder, and gently wrapped his arms around her. In the gloom of the tunnel, disappearing into darkness at either end, they made a single, small bundle of light. Obi-wan rubbed her back to comfort her as she laid her head against his chest. "You'll see him again soon, and everything will be fine. You can tell him how sorry you are for having been annoyed with him so easily, and how much you love him, and all of this will just be another bad memory."

"Thank you, Obi-wan. You always know just want to say to reassure me."

He grinned a very un-Obi-wan-like grin, and pulled away. "Well, always knowing what to say is required of a truly wise Jedi Master."

"I'm going to remind you of that the next time Sabe does something that leaves you speechless." Padme allowed her bottom lip to slip out to form that perfect pout. "I said I loved you and you didn't say it back."

Obi-wan chuckled and placed a kiss on the top of her head. "Sweet sister mine, you are a sun, and I but one of the many planets grateful to be caught within your orbit."

Padme wasn't entirely sure how to take that, but she happened to notice just at that moment that they were the only two in the tunnel. No third light shown in the vast darkness. Han had vanished in the midst of their conversation.

"Obi-wan? Where's Han?"

The Jedi turned and stared off into the darkness, his senses fully alert again and searching for danger. Padme slipped her hand into his, should they manage to otherwise lose each other as they had the boy.

"Come on, this way." Obi-wan began to walk again, then increased the pace to a brisk jog. "Solo?" he shouted into the darkness, searching for the pilot's presence through the Force. He could sense him up ahead, the distance quickly closing between them.

All at once, the tunnel curved in on itself, the darkness gave way to a brilliant burst of light, and they both had to shield their eyes. Together, Obi-wan and Padme emerged from the tunnel, squinting as their eyes adjusted to the sudden change.

"Han?"

"Hey, thought you two would never get here!" The boy appeared suddenly at their side, smiling. "Found the light switch. Kinda bright, after those tunnels."

"Indeed." Obi-wan lowered his arm and, as his eyes adjusted, looked around in astonishment.

They were in a cavern, the ceiling of which was some three stories above them. All along the top, someone had wired huge industrial lights. In the distance, he could hear the humming of a generator, and the whirl of fans. The dust was thinner here, the air cooler. And all around them, along the walls of the cave, were shelves. Shelves containing holocoms and crates filled with lightsaber parts, remotes, stacks of datapads and a million other items necessary to the rebuilding of the Jedi Order.

It was everything and more than he had allowed himself to hope it might be.

"Oh, Obi-wan," Padme breathed beside him, almost as awed as he was.

"I got your droid back up and running. Motor mouth's already over at the computer bank." Han waved towards a makeshift station off against a far wall, but Obi-wan shook his head.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I want to look around a little first before we start inventorying, and Padme needs to rest."

"I'm fine, Obi-wan."

The scruffy pilot spoke up before the Jedi could admonish her stubbornness. "He's right, your ladyship. We ain't in any hurry now that we're here. There's a lot to see, and plenty of time to get around to it, but you can't be up and about with a wound like that, not without a quick rest and some of the rations." He took her gently by the uninjured arm to lead Padme over to a boulder flat on top that could serve as a comfortable seat.

She looked imploringly at Obi-wan, but he just shook his head.

"Remember: you're busy being sorry for being so stubborn about everything."

Resigned, Padme took the offered seat and began to dig in her pack for the rations she had brought with them.

"Watch her," Obi-wan instructed Solo, "she may be contrite now, but it won't last. In the meantime, I'm going to do a bit of exploring on my own." Alone, he ducked down a side tunnel and disappeared in a swirl of blue dust and shadows.

* * *

The cubs had been playing a game quietly together since the _Falcon_ had landed in the mouth of a cave serving as a makeshift hanger, and Chewbacca had was secretly enjoying the role of nanny. They required little of him other than his occasional comment or praise, and their soft laughter made his recall his own youth among the trees of Kashyyyk, before the Clone Wars, and the Empire. The twins were better behaved than Han, despite the gap in their ages, but Chewie chalked this up to the hard life his young charge had known before the Wookie took him in. But for all his reckless behavior, Chewie wouldn't trade Han for any other human child.

Solo was one of a kind, special in ways the young man had yet to realize about himself.

The Skywalker cubs certainly seemed to think so. Leia had pouted a little at first when he and her relatives had gone off without her. But her brother, a bright cub if ever Chewie had known one, had reassured her they would see plenty of the young captain in the future.

He was dozing slightly, occasionally peeking through an eye to be sure all was well, when Luke stilled. Leia immediately hushed, frozen in place, staring at her twin.

"What is it, Luke?"

The boy rose slowly to his feet. "Imperials. Coming here. Now."

"What is it, cub?" Chewie barked, even as he knew the little human probably couldn't understand him. "This some part of your game?"

"No game." Luke replied, making the Wookie's skin shiver under his thick coat. It was then the alarms started to blare, the shrill of the scanners could be heard from the cockpit, and Chewbacca was off like a shot, flying out of the lounge and storming down the corridors.

The scanners were lit up like the planet Coruscant, announcing the arrival of Imperial Tie-fighters. A glance outside the cockpit confirmed the presence of entire battalions of stormtroopers approaching, and warriors of the Blue Dust clan running out to meet them.

There was no time for hesitation. The choice was either take off and attempt to come back for the others later, or join the battle and do what he could to ensure the troopers did not board the _Falcon_.

No, there was no choice. He would not leave Han.

Chewie raced back down the corridor towards the lounge. The cubs stood waiting for him. "Hide, and do not come back out until one of us comes for you," he instructed them. He didn't wait for a response before heading for the ramp, trusty bowcaster locked and ready.

The ramp lowered, and the Wookie bounded off it, making for the battle that had joined just outside the cave.

"Luke, where are you going?!" Leia rushed after her foolhardy brother as he made his way to the cockpit. "Chewbacca said we were to hide!"

Her twin hopped up into the pilot's seat and began to flip switches. "No more hiding," he told her seriously. "We hid from the Sith and the Empire while we could, Leia. But we can't any more. Now hold on."

Leia clambered up into the co-pilot's seat and was immediately engulfed, considering it was meant for a Wookie. But she buckled herself in as best she could and tried to sound encouraging. "Okay, what can I do to help?"

"See those controls over there? Han told me those work the extra guns he had added to the _Falcon_. You can operate them from in here in the cockpit."

"We're going to shoot people?"

"We're going to shoot down those Ties."

"Okay," the girl nodded, glancing over the numerous controls and switches. "But if you get to fly, I get to choose which Ties we're shooting down."

"Deal."

Calling on the Force and the introductory lessons Han had given him, Luke lifted the craft gently into the air, flipped a switch to close the landing gear and eased back on the throttle. They began to move forward.

The _Falcon _wobbled to the side slightly before straightening out. Inching forward, careful of the cave ceiling, the ship made its way toward the cave mouth, where they could launch into the open sky.

Though he was swarmed by stormtroopers, Chewbacca took notice of the _Falcon_ suddenly being airborne, and howled in protest. Thinking the troopers had gotten on board, he grabbed an advancing Imperial by the neck, lifted him up and shook him fiercely. The Jedi had _trusted him_ with the Skywalker cubs!

As he stared up at the approaching ship, roaring defiantly, two little faces appeared in the viewport of the cockpit. Leia waved.

For a moment, Chewbacca gaped. Then he flung the offending human away from him, sending the trooper reeling into his companions, and took off at a breakneck speed for the still-lowered ramp of the _Falcon_. As the ship neared the mouth of the cave, it began to gain slightly in altitude and speed, the ramp and the twins slipping farther and farther away from him.

His entire body curled like a spring, and at the last second, Chewbacca sprang, flying through the air. There was a terrible moment of complete weightlessness, then his paws collided with the cold durasteel of the ramp's edge. With a massive effort, he got one arm, then the other, latched around the lowering mechanism, then howled in terror as the _Falcon_ cleared the cave and shot up into the sky.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed!

I realize that planets don't exactly "orbit" suns, but "caught in your gravitational pull" just didn't have the poetry I was looking for. The connotation would have been all wrong.

If there are any die-hard feminists reading this who think Padme is coming off too much like a damsel in distress, fear not. Sabe will put things right again. Their characters in this AU have evolved to the point that the former handmaiden-turned-agent is really the one who's cut out for high-adventure heroism. Padme will find her calling elsewhere later on.

Caslia


	52. Individual Journeys: Chapter 4

Hello and welcome back to the Rebirth of the Light Series. As always, thank you to all those you who wrote replies to the last chapter, to all old readers for holding on in between posts; and to any new readers who are just joining us, welcome!

Just a general update: summer is finally here! I have an entire summer for the first time in four years in which I am not taking additional college courses, so there should be more posts in the future. I know I say that at the beginning of almost of every post, but as long as I keep on believing it, the more likely it is a post will actually get written.

So, here's to summer! Let's pick up with Anakin and Strike Squadron and find out what's been going on with them. Then, if the post doesn't get too long, we'll check in with the twins and the Master Kenobi/Mrs. Skywalker team. On a side note, we won't be hearing any more from the young Jedi who snuck into the Jedi Temple until _Glimpses_, as there is already too many OCs running around.

* * *

Chapter Nine:

_Individual Journeys_

Five Years After _Rebirth of the Light_

* * *

Gut-wrenching despair tore at his insides even as adrenaline coursed at light-speed through his system. Voices were shouting in his ears, but Anakin could barely make them out over the sound of his own thudding heart beat and the tug of the Force. He vaguely recognized Tash's voice, repeating a call sign over and over, as if the recitation would bring its owner back from the depth of the black hole the unlucky pilot had veered into.

"Strike Eight! Strike Eight, do you copy?! This is Strike Two, _do you copy_?"

"That's enough, Strike Two," Sabe's voice, cool and professional. "She's gone. Keep focused, or you might be next."

"That's two of my squadron, Ulin. We should pull back while we still can."

"There's no pulling back," Anakin interjected before Sabe could snap a response. The Force flowed through him, filling him in a way it hadn't since before his seduction to the Darkside. Every cell sizzled, jazzed as total awareness flooded his every sense. The creak of the remaining twelve X-wings, the whirl of Artoo's dome, the harsh breathing in his ear of Piett and the others, all counting on him, all looking to the Jedi to see them through this nightmare that had already claimed two of their own.

It was incredibly exhilarating, and that only added to that tug of terror his insides were experiencing. It would be so easy to forget about the others, to shake off the responsibility of their lives and just take off, racing through the Maw, into its unexplored depths, pitching himself against the worst the galaxy had to offer.

"Jedi Skywalker is right," Sabe's voice again, calling him back from that terrifyingly real possibility. "We complete the mission. Keep it together, Strike."

_Keep it together, keep it together._

Anakin closed his eyes, gripped the controls and released his feelings into the Force. _He_ was their way out of this alive. They needed him to stay calm, to keep it together. Focus, he told himself strictly. Stay in the here and now.

"You okay, Skywalker?"

He opened his eyes to see Piett's X-wing fly up beside him on the port side. The young man alternated between keeping his eyes peeled on the mess of stars and not-stars space that were black holes ahead of them, and glancing worriedly at Anakin from behind his flight visor.

Behind them, Tash and Sabe's fighters swayed in perfect unison, following in the safe path they cut. The others trailed out behind them. A single miscalculation on anyone's part, and the gravity pull of the nearest black hole could reach out and grab any of them. Further back in line, the fighters had rearranged to make up for their losses, ensuring every pilot had a wingman to watch out for each other.

All of them looking to him. Anakin felt that claw in his gut twist again, felt the despair creeping up on him. Darkness tinged the edges of his vision. From between clenched teeth, he forced himself to acknowledge his wingman's concern.

"Fine. Keep your port wing tipped upwards, Piett. Counter balance, make sure Strike Two does the same behind you. Keep close."

"Copy that, Strike Sixteen."

Behind them, the other fighters made adjustments, swooping past the pull of just another hole. The ships cried out in protest, feeling the gravitational pull, and Artoo gave a low whistle and trembled in his socket.

"Everything's fine, Artoo."

Artoo spat out a series of beeps that said everything was _definitely_ not okay. Apparently, he wasn't fooling either of them.

Someone over the comm. said he was doing a great job, but Anakin wasn't paying any attention. His nerves felt fried, his eyes were dry even as his face was drenched in sweat. There was no 

time to relax, no single moment to steal in order to regroup. There was only the pull of the next hole, the nearly-invisible path painted before him, the steady shifting of the controls under his hands. For the thousandth time, he wished he could pull off his gloves, could feel the texture of the throttle and gears against his palm, even if the skin on both hands was only sensitive to such things with the aid of electronic synthesizers. Underneath was just more gears and wires. Too little control. He had too little control over his own hands, over the situation, over his own life and destiny. Even when he no longer _had_ a destiny, he didn't seem to have any control.

_Focus!_ Anakin whipped his tumbling thoughts back to the moment, to the subtle shift in course that kept them all alive.

X-wings swooped around another dead space, seven pairs with wings almost touching, hulls scraping hulls, fingers tense on the controls. Every pilot sat as though even the movement of a single bone in their bodies might propel them into a course from which they could never escape. It very well might. Breath fogged viewports, eyes remained fastened on the fighter in front of them. For a few, their lips were trembling, though none of their squadron mates would have blamed them for it.

He could feel them each through the Force, feel their fear, and their determination. If not for that last emotion, Anakin was sure the despair and terror would have already dragged him down, the exhilaration taken over. These rebels were strong. Stronger than he had ever been. And Anakin found his salvation in that, but only just. Like his relationship with Padme and Obi-wan, it was _their_ faith in _him_ that kept him steady. He couldn't stand on his own. Not yet. He just wasn't ready for that. There was still too much he couldn't face, couldn't handle…

"Whoa, hey! Who tilted the galaxy?"

Broken from his dark thoughts, Anakin refocused as Tash's voice shouted over the comm. He glanced at the radar screen in front of him to find that Strike Two had veered off slightly from the safe path he and Strike Fifteen were carving for the others. Tash's X-wing tilted too far to port, and had drifted away from his wingman.

"Strike Two, even out. I said to counter balance by lifting your port wing. Swing about starboard, starboard!" Strike Two continued to drift to the left at an angle. "Tash, do you copy?!"

"I copy," the pilot replied. Anakin didn't need the Force to hear the quiver in the other's voice. "Switching power to the port thrusters."

A burst of ion flared hot behind Strike Two's port engine, but the Force was already telling Anakin everything he needed to know. It wasn't going to work. The gravitational pull of the nearest black hole was already at work, dragging the X-wing and Tash with it away from the squadron.

"Strike Two! Tash! Pull starboard! Drop all shields, full power to the port engine!"

"Copy that, Strike Leader." The X-wing continued to swing to the right, the roar of its now-single operating engine rising into a whine. Over the comm., other voices began to shout. The Force felt like it was burning away his nerve endings, dancing like fire across his skin and down into his brain. Anakin could feel as every little part of the wayward X-wing switched from resistance to capitulation of the gravitational pull.

"Swing starboard! Swing starboard! All power to your port engine!"

"Pull up! Tash, pull up! Out run it!"

With a series of beeps and whoops, Artoo offered a string of calculations to off-set the X-wing's drift, but Anakin was too busy to glance at the translation on the screen.

His hands jerked the controls before he had any real plan, but then, he didn't need one. The Force was his guide, shouting orders louder than any of the voices of the squadron. Anakin ground his teeth, swerved out of formation, and made for his friend. He could hear himself telling Piett to take the lead and the other man's astonished response, but none of it really registered.

His mind was set on putting himself between Tash and the hole. If he could suddenly break the pull, maybe the other X-wing could break free. After that – well, after that, he would need a new plan.

"Strike Two, incoming, forward starboard!"

He lowered his port-side wings and locked the ship's s-foils in attack position. At the same time, Anakin cut back on the thrusters, so the other ship might catch up with him. It was a mere hundred meters or so between the trail of fighters now and their wayward companion, but Anakin didn't need a computer to calculate the distance for him, or to direct his movements. Even as Artoo squealed behind him, they cut toward Strike Two at a dizzying speed.

In an instant, Anakin knew something had gone wrong. They were above Tash in the blink of an eye and he was about to drop down on the fighter's left side, efficiently cutting off the gravitational pull on the other fighter. If not for the sudden warning in the Force, he would have done just that, and come crashing down on the other fighter that had abruptly swooped in to scrape wing against wing with Strike Two.

"Pull up, Strike Sixteen! Anakin, pull up before you kill us all!"

He reacted instinctively, pulling back and to the right on the throttle. It was a knee-jerk reaction, and no one else would have been able to pull it off. In an instant, he was down and to the right of the wayward fighter, close enough to see the white of Tash's good eye turned towards him in desperate appeal.

It was the other pilot, however, that he was now more worried about.

"Sabe! What the hell are you doing?! Return to formation!"

"Negative, Strike Sixteen."

The sudden appearance of the third fighter, positioned between Strike Two and the gravitational pull had had the desired effect, to an extent. It had given Tash more control over his fighter, but the hole still had a hold, and Anakin could feel the ships shuddering under the stress.

But that seemed a moot point now, when it was Sabe between the fighter and the hole. It took less than an instant for panic to flood through Anakin, for every awful scenario to play itself out in his mind's eye. He could almost see her fighter disappearing into the empty darkness, could feel the weight of her death seeping into his bones.

And Obi-wan! Oh, Obi-wan! What would he say to him?! How would he explain this to his friend, explain the loss of the woman his brother had only now allowed himself to love, how it should have been _him_, that he had been only a few seconds too late to take her place. And underneath it was the searing knowledge of Siri's death, of how she had fallen in the Jedi Purge by _his_ hand, and now here he was again, only desperate but unable to change fate.

The despair lurking in him reared up, ridden bareback by the panic and the fear, trampling him under it.

"Strike Leader, disengage – !"

"Stuff it, Anakin, or else tell me how to get us the hell out of this situation."

Anakin gritted his teeth, blue lightening dancing over his fingers. "Disengage, Sabe! That's an order!"

"_I_ give the orders around here, Skywalker. Get back in the front or give me a hand, but either way, blow your orders out your exhaust pipe."

If only she knew how close the Darkness was, how easy it would be to just reach out and tear all three of them away from the hole. All it would take was a taste, just a single burst of power, _real power_, and then they would all be safe. This wasn't just about his ego, about being the hero. It would just be so much easier if she would just _get out of the way_!

The power danced over his fingertips, sizzling along the lines the Force had traced over his body, making his nerves dance, his eyes blaze.

Voices were shouting in his ears again, Sabe and Tash and half the squadron, Piett desperately requesting directions on where to fly, what to do. But none of it mattered. He shut them all out, listening only to the call of the Force. It raced through him, his heart beat with an inhuman rhythm, matching the great incandescence that was the song of the universe.

With a almost surreal ease, his hand came away from the controls and reached out…fire tingled at the ends, without pain, without heat…nothing but _raw power_, his to command, to _control_…

He _had control_ over the situation. Over all of it! All he had to do was reach out and touch it. They would be saved, all of them. The squadron safe from the Maw, the galaxy safe from this Death Star. Sabe safe, kept from death. How Obi-wan would thank him, how they all would cheer…

_NO!_ With the force of a whiplash at light-speed, Anakin came back to himself. The Darkness lingered at the edges of his senses, tingling with anticipation. How easily it had come to him, promising him all of his old needs: fame, glory, power. But he wouldn't give in, he _wouldn't_. There was another way.

With a deep breath, he released his sudden death hold on the Force and allowed it to flow through him. The Light broke like a Thanatian dawn across his soul, wrapping him in the secure knowledge that everything would be fine…

With a sudden jolt, Anakin felt the entire fighter underneath him shudder and bulk, as though it had been tossed. The voice of the Force simultaneously died to a whisper, then faded altogether as the real world rushed back in. Systems were going wild, Artoo was screaming bloody murder, and sirens wailed in his ears, drowning out the Force.

"Artoo, regain control of the piloting systems. Get us stable!"

The droid was going crazy, and for an instant, Anakin feared the worst. He had no idea what had been happening, what he had _done_, but suddenly he had no control, the stars before him mingled with the dark spaces that marked the black holes, and terror tore at his senses that had been left raw from the contact with the Darkness.

The Darkness…

Even as the fighter stabilized and the sirens fell silent, Anakin felt the blood rushing from his face. Where one moment there had been the Force, guiding him, the Darkside had rushed in to replace it the moment he had let his guard down. How easy it had been to embrace it, easy as it hadn't been since the attempt on the lives of his children five years ago. And what had it cost him, before the Light had come to his aid?

"Sabe?! Sabe, are you there?"

"I'm here, Anakin. Are you okay?"

Out the side of his viewport, he could see Strike Leader flying as his wingman on the starboard side. Her ship looked the worst for wear, but holding together. And behind her, Strike Two was flying back to rejoin the squadron, which was still flying in formation with Piett in the lead. He glanced away from the Strikes and looked to the young woman in the cockpit of the X-wing, found her staring at him in a way that made his heart leap.

"I'm alright. W-what happened?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing. Tash and I both switched full power to our port thrusters at the same moment and then there was this sudden…_jolt_ and we broke hold. We thought you were with us, but we slammed into your fighter a moment later."

"The Force…" he muttered.

"The Force my ass," she snapped, already veering back to the squadron. "You disobey or try to override my orders like that again, Anakin, and Jedi or no Jedi, I'll put you in your place so fast, it'll make the Sith seem like a Alderaanian vacation! You copy?"

"I was only trying to protect you – "

"Do you _copy?!_"

"I copy." And he did, with a wonderful, unexplainable sense of relief.

His hands shook on the controls as he geared the fighter back into formation, Sabe taking up position behind him. He had lost all connection with the Force for the moment, everything was centered on his very physical presence. Belatedly, Anakin realized he was shaking all over, and there was a strange feeling of giddy detachment.

Shock, he thought to himself. I'm going into shock. This can't be good.

"Snap out of it, Skywalker!" Sabe's voice was there again, keeping him sane, helping him keep it together. "Piett's a damn good pilot, but we need you to get us out of this mess."

"Right, right." He replied. _Focus! I've got to focus!_

And just as Anakin felt himself regaining control of himself, just as the Force was returning and his senses began to operate normally, the patchwork that was the view before them of stars and no-stars gave way to something else.

It was small at first, then grew larger. A gray speck that became gray objects, and finally developed into the shape of a space station, and what looked like a metal corpse of a hollowed-out planet.

"This is it, Strike Squadron," Tash's voice, sounding steadier than Anakin would have ever expected. "Lock s-foils in attack position. The Ties will be on us any moment now."

And then they appeared, tiny objects that grew into enemy fighters headed straight for them. Not many, barely three full squadrons, but enough to threaten the Strikes with their decreased numbers.

With a determination he had to wrench out of the depths of his soul, Anakin set his shoulders and steadied his hands on the controls. He put all thoughts of Obi-wan and Padme, of the twins and of his own failings out of his mind.

He grinned, but it lacked all the smugness of the expressions he had worn in previous star battles. "Just like old times, right, Artoo?"

The loyal little droid twirled his own call to arms, and then the fighters engaged.

* * *

Whew! Okay, so this post isn't very long, but the next scene is low-key compared to this one, so I'll write it next time.

And yes, I realize Sabe's actions probably wouldn't have worked, but I really don't know enough about fighters and black holes and physics to come up with something even remotely believable, so just go with me on this one.

Caslia


	53. Individual Journeys: Chapter 5

Okay all you lurkers (I know you're out there, I can sense you), I normally don't beg for replies, but I really need feedback on this first scene with Obi-wan. I'm not sure it's all it could have been. So when you're done reading, click the reply button at the bottom and take two minutes to write a few words. I appreciate it.

* * *

Chapter Nine:

_Individual Journeys_

Five Years After _Rebirth of the Light_

* * *

By the blue-tinted glow of his saber, Obi-wan slowly made his way deeper into the mountains' hollow core. The blue dust that had been their constant companion since landing on the strange planet dissipated now, left behind in the archives along with Padme and Solo.

Obi-wan felt as though he was leaving other things behind as well. The further he walked into the cool darkness, the more time fell away. He had no real idea how long he had been walking, and it felt in some strange way as though the Force itself was addling his senses. He felt isolated, detached from everything: his quest to find the Jedi artifacts, his concern for Anakin off on his own mission. Even the past five years and all the changes that had come with them seemed somehow distant and strange to him now.

The Force whispered to him, a soft hush in the back of his mind. It reminded him of other times, of the quiet serenity of the Jedi Temple, when it had been filled with the life and Light of thousands of other Jedi. Even as he tread deeper through the still air of the tunnel, his hands running along the rough-hewn rock walls, Obi-wan was reminded of the Temple gardens, the fountain room filled with lush vegetation.

His youth as a stumbling, uncertain padawan learner. His friends, whom he had not thought of in ages. Siri, taunting him good-naturedly. And Qui-gon. Stern, compassionate, wise Master Qui-gon.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the thoughts and sensations that rose up in him. What was happening? Had seeing all the old Jedi artifacts, the remnants of the Order brought these memories of his youth back to him? _Be here and now_, he silently instructed himself, but still he could feel the tug of the Force, and something else just behind it.

There was a subtle shift in the way the light of his saber bounced off the walls. The tunnel was widening, first enough that two humans could walk side-by-side, then enough for three, then four. Obi-wan quickened his pace as the tunnel before him grew wider and finally opened into a cavern a hundred times the size of the one in which the Jedi artifacts had been stored.

The walls of this one had not been molded as had the other; no lightsaber had carved into the rock to make shelves. Instead, the walls jutted out in places, curved inwards on themselves, creating pockets and massive cliffs. Both the floor and ceiling were strewn with gigantic stalactites and stalagmites, their width greater than that of a starfighter in some places.

The air was thick, moist. Here the underground rivers that Solo had mentioned flowed out of crevices in the rock walls, trickling down the rock formations, and gathered in pools that Obi-wan suspected plunged deeper than he could swim without a breather. The waters shimmered, and when Obi-wan raised his saber, casting light across a short distance of the massive cavern, he discovered why.

Crystals. Shimmering blue and green, purple, clear and even red. They grew in bursts along the base of the rock formations, in clumps along the riverbeds, sprung from the walls and the ceilings and all singing with the glorious power of the Force. Not since his journey with Anakin to Ilum some seven years ago had Obi-wan seen so many crystals, and the destruction of that ice cavern by the Separatists had ensured future Jedi would have to suffice with the lightsaber crystals they had until a new source could be found.

And here it was. Here, on this unnamed, unimportant, forgotten planet near the Unknown Regions were the tools to rebuild the Jedi Order. Lightsaber crystals, enough to arm another ten thousand Force warriors. Holocons with the teachings of ancient masters on them, records of Jedi past, training devices, _everything_.

All of it, here.

"How?" he murmured to himself.

"The Force," replied a familiar voice Obi-wan had not heard in years, "works in mysterious ways."

His heart in his throat, Obi-wan spun to face the deep shadows to his right.

As he watched, startled and awed, the light from the crystals penetrated the darkness and began to spin and dance. The flickering swirl resolved itself into a large shape. Tiny particles joined in, reminiscent of the blue dust, adding details so that the shape developed into the form of a human, then a man, and finally into familiar features.

With sure steps, the man detached himself from the cavern shadows and approached Obi-wan. His smile was broad, his eyes shining in a way that brought back a thousand memories. Everything about him looked the same, the fall of his Jedi robes, the length of his graying hair, even the lightsaber clipped to the utility belt, both now entirely unnecessary.

"You see me as you remember me best," Qui-gon Jinn informed his former padawan. The glowing specter spread his arms and glanced down at himself, then looked back at the gaping Jedi Master with a teasing grin. "I suppose some of your earlier memories of me, when we were both a bit younger, would be somewhat harder to recall."

"M-Master Qui-gon?!" It was all Obi-wan was able to force out.

He felt like he was free-floating, as if the cavern and the planet and everything had been sucked away and left him hanging in space. He gasped, filling his lungs, amazed to still find himself planet-side and firmly fixed to the ground.

Both Anakin and Master Yoda had confirmed that Qui-gon had found a way to retain his form within the Force, to temporarily avoid becoming one with it, but to actually _see_ his old master, to hear his voice again, was something entirely different. A million memories came rushing back to him, feelings and thoughts that had not been his since he was little more than a youngling. More than that: the years that stretched between then and now. His master's death and funeral service, all the times during Anakin's training Obi-wan had wished he had his own master to turn to for wisdom and advice. The fall of the Order, how sure he was that Qui-gon would have been disappointed in him, in his failure to be all that the Chosen One needed of him. Anakin's words as Vader, accusing Obi-wan of having cared for him only because he had promised Qui-gon, and how that had broken Kenobi, destroyed his hope in his brother. Anakin's return from the Darkness with the birth of his twins, when for a moment, Obi-wan had thought he felt Qui-gon's warm presence.

And now here he was. Not some distant memory or spectral sense of comfort. The man who had practically raised him, trained him, given him purpose and a belief in himself was _here_.

And he had no words. All the things any other time he might have thought he'd say – _I've missed you; how could you leave me like that; I'm sorry for having failed you _– seemed inconsequential in the face of what Qui-gon had achieved. Now he knew why memories and sensations from his youth had come flooding back to him as he entered the cavern. They were revived through the close presence of his master, through the phantom-limb that was what was left of their bond.

Qui-gon, for his part, didn't seem the least bit in awe of the moment. He simply chuckled, in the same way he always had, and stepped closer to his former charge.

"Well, Obi-wan? I see you and Anakin are closer than ever; he had that exact look on his face when we last spoke. The two of you do quite the fish impression."

"I-I…" Obi-wan took a deep breath, blew it out. Absentmindedly, his hands tugged at the bottom of his tunic, straightening it. Standing here fresh-faced after shaving and having left his Jedi cloak on the _Falcon_, he felt very much the young and inexperienced padawan learner again. "Master, I can't believe you're here."

That was not exactly the welcome he had been intending, and Obi-wan felt his face flush.

Qui-gon only chuckled. "It's alright, Obi-wan." He moved to sit on the edge of one of the rock formations that was not covered in the tirade of crystals. "I knew you would find my presence something of a shock. It's why I appeared to Anakin first, so you might have time to absorb and rationalize it." He grinned in a way that reminded the living Jedi of other times his master had done something a younger Kenobi found confusing. "You never did learn to feel, rather than merely think."

Obi-wan swallowed, feeling more grounded now that the overall shock had worn off. He glanced around for a place to sit and found a slight ledge just across from Qui-gon. Always keeping one eye on his old mentor, he moved towards it and took a seat. "Some lessons are harder to learn than others."

"And some are not meant to be learned at all." Qui-gon countered.

Obi-wan frowned at that. "Master?"

"No longer, Obi-wan. You are a Jedi Master in your own right. You should address me as such." He waited for Obi-wan to give a reluctant nod before continuing. "And a fine Jedi you are. One of the greatest the Order has ever known. I am quite proud of you."

Even as his heart swelled at the words, Obi-wan felt something inside him clench painfully.

"You shouldn't be." He was suddenly unable to look the specter in the eyes. "You left Anakin in my care. He was my responsibility."

"And you two did well together. Far better than I could ever have hoped."

"You must be joking!" Obi-wan did look up then, startled out of his shame. His conversation with Anakin some weeks ago had led Kenobi to believe their old master had been watching over them this whole time. Surely if that was the case, Qui-gon knew about what had become of the Order, the part both of them had played in its downfall, and the rise of the Sith. It seemed completely irrational that Qui-gon could still be proud of either of them given the circumstances.

As if sensing his former padawan's thoughts, Qui-gon offered a reassuring smile. "Would you have me lecture you about your choices and actions as though you were still my student? Any failings on your part were of the human nature, Obi-wan."

"And perhaps that is the problem," Kenobi stood, feeling frustrated and embarrassed about being frustrated, when his master was right: Obi-wan was a Jedi Master and not some youngling to be reprimanded. "I allowed my feelings for Anakin to blind me to what he was becoming. Had I been a better master to him, if I had relied more on your teachings – "

"Then you would not be where you are now," Qui-gon interrupted with a small flash of his infamous temper. He too rose, and cross his arms over his translucent chest. "Much of what happened was the will of the Force, Obi-wan. In what particular manner do you believe you are the more to blame?"

"There is much I would change." He glanced away. "With Anakin."

"You would not have trained him?"

"Of course I would have! But I would have been more patient, more understanding." _More like you_. The words went unspoken, but there was a silent acknowledgement there. "And I would have been more open with him."

"Regrets such as these are normal where any student is concerned, Obi-wan. Do you think I don't have them?" The specter only smiled when Kenobi swerved to look at him. It had never crossed Obi-wan's mind that Qui-gon might have regrets in the manner in which he had trained his youngest apprentice. Once they had joined together as master and padawan, rarely was there a time Obi-wan did not remember feeling strengthened by the words and teachings of the other. But then, their time as teacher and student had been easier than his and Anakin's.

"He thought I only trained him because of my promise to you. Anakin believed I was somehow envious of his power, and resentful of his presence."

"And were you?"

"Of course not! Anakin grew to mean everything to me!" Obi-wan snapped back, surprising them both by how hurt and angry he was at the mere suggestion. "It was difficult at first, yes. But in time, I could not imagine my life without him. I still cannot."

"Then I hardly see what the problem is; why you blame yourself for what happened. You loved the boy, and in the end, that love has proved to be his salvation. Anakin fulfilled his destiny. I would have thought after all these years you would have already grasped the significance of the events occurring around you. Through you and young Skywalker, the Force has been balanced."

"It cost us the Order."

Qui-gon waved a dismissive hand. "The Jedi had come to a point when they served not the Force, but the Code. They had lost sight of what mattered, of what it truly meant to serve both the will of the Force and the people of this galaxy. Together, you and Anakin have cleansed yourselves of the old ways, and forged a new and brighter concept of what it means to be Jedi. The Order, the galaxy, will be better for it. _You_ are better for it."

When Obi-wan remained silent, uncertain, Qui-gon moved closer and placed a reassuring hand on the other's shoulder.

"Are you not happy?"

"I-" For the second time, Obi-wan found himself dumbfounded in the presence of his master, his earlier frustration vanishing in his confusion . "Yes, I am happy. But I don't understand what that has to do with any of it. A Jedi lives to serve." He frowned, disturbed. "And in these last few years, I have only been serving myself. I have stayed with Anakin, rather than joining the fight against the Empire or the search for surviving Jedi, because I could not bear the thought of doing either without him. Was I wrong?"

"No," the older Jedi smiled in that knowing way. "And do you know why? Because it is your love for Anakin, and for his family, that has allowed you to become more than you were. Had you not taken Anakin as your apprentice, if you had not broken the rule of no attachment by forming so strong a bond with him, you would not have become the great Jedi that you are." His hand firmly on the other's shoulder, Qui-gon leaned in and stared intensely into Obi-wan's eyes. "Obi-wan, who do the Jedi serve?"

"The will of the Force."

"And?"

Though a moment ago he had been feeling foolish and uncertain, that faded away. Obi-wan felt stronger somehow. He returned Qui-gon's stare. "And the people of the galaxy."

"Correct. And to do that, we must understand that we are not above them. We are not separate from them. The Jedi of the new order cannot be cold and aloof, without attachment. You cannot rationalize everything, my still-very-young apprentice. You must remember to feel. Now, you love as they love. You fear the loss of Anakin and Padme, of the twins and especially of Sabe, in the same way others in this galaxy fear the loss of their loved ones. But you do not live by that fear, do not try and control the outcome, so there is no danger in it." The older Jedi smiled now, pulling back. "You have given yourself over to the Force, as Anakin will in time, with the understanding that it is your love for one another that makes the Force and everything else in this galaxy possible."

Obi-wan nodded, feeling the truth behind the words, feeling his certainty return a thousand times over. His fears of having disappointed his master, of having failed in his duties as both loyal apprentice to Qui-gon and mentor to Anakin faded away. They had made mistakes, all of them. But they had learned from them, and become something more than they might not otherwise have been. The Force truly did work in mysterious ways.

"So you understand now?"

"I think so," he replied. "Except for this," he waved a hand to indicate the humungous cavern in which the crystals glimmered in the dark. "These crystals, and the archives. All of it here."

Qui-gon moved to stand beside one of the rock formations and stared up into the shadows where it connected with the domed ceiling. Whenever he could read there, Obi-wan was unable to decipher. When their eyes met again, the elder Jedi's twinkled with mischievous amusement.

"I have learned many things about the Force since my death. It does not always work as the Order, and especially the Council believed it did. The Jedi are not the only source of good in this galaxy, nor is good always what it appears. We are more shades of gray than anything." In response to Obi-wan's slight frown, he chuckled. "Never mind. A little something for you to meditate on later. For now, simply remember what I said about the change the new order must undergo. It will be up to you."

"Me?"

"You and Anakin. That is why you are here now, and have seen this," Qui-gon nodded at the crystals. "You had to be ready." In the darkness of the cavern, it seemed as though he was slowly fading, the crystals around him glowing brighter as the Jedi Master began to lose form.

"I'm sorry, Qui-gon." Obi-wan moved closer, peering into the shadows at the glimmering specter. "I don't understand."

"You two are to be the architects of the new order. Who better?"

"Master Yoda still lives – "

The reply came as though echoing from across the cavern. Already, details of Qui-gon's face had become to fade. "Together, the two of you have known pain and regret, the temptation of your darker natures, as well as rebirth through love and compassion. The Force has chosen you. The prophecy has served its purpose and cleansed this galaxy. Now you must take from here what you have found, and what you have learned."

Though he knew it was futile, Obi-wan sprang into the darkness after the dimming image, calling for Qui-gon to wait. But the light that had given his old master form broke apart, as though made of some more solid element, and scattered on the cavern floor.

The sudden silence should have filled him with a hollowness. The twinkling light given off by the crystals should have been nothing compared to the dark emptiness left by his master's departure.

But that wasn't the case.

One breath, then another. Obi-wan scanned the darkness with his eyes, not really looking for anything, just feeling. Just feeling the weight of Qui-gon's words, of the knowledge of who and what he as a Jedi and an individual had become in the last five years. More than he had been. More because of how he had allowed himself to feel, to be, and now was to act on what he had learned. To pass it on to others.

He had come to this planet to find the artifacts and the archives, the remnants of the old order. He had come becomes he was a Jedi, and it was his duty. Obi-wan walked out of that cavern and back into the tunnels as more than that, as Jedi, brother, lover and friend. And more.

* * *

"Strike Ten, you got a Tie on your tail. I'm coming in."

"You better watch your own tail, Three."

"Nobody do anything stupid. Leading the Imps toward a hole only _sounds_ like a good idea." Anakin pulled hard on the thruster, sending his X-wing up and over an in-coming Tie fighter so close, he could see the masked face of the pilot inside. He was briefly reminded of the time he had intervened in a star battle between an Imperial Star Destroyer and the rebel medical frigate, but quickly put it out of his mind. Different time, different battle. Different person behind the controls.

There was an explosion off to the left as Tie and X-wing rained down red and green bolts on the enemy. From the fiery mass of ozone and durasteel only a single ship emerged, its pilot allowing only a grim sense of satisfaction as he came away alive.

"Fine shooting, Piett."

"Thank you, Skywalker. By the way, there's a Tie coming up on your right."

As Anakin turned to engage, his wingman came in right over top of him. The advancing Tie, with no shields to protect it from the volley of green bolts, executed a roll and vanished underneath them. There was no time to bother chasing after it; another threat was coming up from behind.

"Looks like we got ourselves some serious pilots here," Tash remarked, even as he took out another Tie before zipping around to provide Sabe's fighter with additional cover. "Think they know we know what they got here?"

"Imps ain't that smart," quipped one of the other pilots.

" 'Ain't' is not a word," Piett replied with a smirk.

"Sorry, Strike Fifteen. Didn't mean anything personal by it."

Tash laughed in comm. "You just don't want to eat it by friendly-fire, Nine."

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Anakin grinned at their nervous chatter. The camaraderie had a calming effect. "Don't let them get to you, Piett," he told the other young man.

"I was actually more concerned about – " The comm. was cut off as the other star fighter shuddered as it narrowly missed the blast of another exploding Tie. " – that," Piett finished as he righted his ship and rejoined Anakin.

They had started with some three squadrons, and thanks to the efforts of Strike were now down to just more than two, but still had gained no serious ground toward the hulking outline of the project. Through the Force, Anakin could sense that they hadn't lost any more of their number, despite the intense fighting and numerous explosions.

But they still had to take out what he now thought of as quite the technological terror. It was hard to imagine Palpatine had been capable of creating such a monstrosity, its purpose nothing more than complete destruction of entire planets. Another of his dark master's duplicities, one among so many that Anakin had been willingly blind to.

He pushed aside the pang of guilt, the possibility that he might ever have condoned the construction of such a thing, and refocused his attention on the consol of his fighter. He was closer to the station that any of the others, and there were no Ties presently engaging him. Anakin could reverse and reengage in the battle, or push onwards to complete the mission. The station loomed before him.

Their instructions were to destroy the station, along with the Imperials' project.

Anakin suddenly had another idea.

"Artoo, power down the lasers, Put everything into the shields." The little screen in front of him rolled out the droid's responding affirmative, and Anakin made the necessary adjustments inside the cockpit before turning the nose of his fighter towards the station.

As he neared it, the project began to loom over him, as large as a moon and haunting with all its innards showing. Scaffolding stretched out into the emptiness of space, cables hung like limp intestines inside some eviscerated beast.

It was the presence of the Darkside that was the worst aspect, however. It sent shivers up his spine, and Artoo gave a low whimper. Shadows that were naturally found in space seemed to take on an unnatural eeriness to them, hinting of the intentions of this structure once it was completed.

But it never would be, Anakin vowed. It would be neither completed nor used so long as there was some champion of the Light alive to fight against the influence of the Darkness.

"Strike Sixteen, what's your position?"

Anakin jumped at the sound of Sabe's voice in his ear, a shock after the haunting silence of the project. "I'm going in."

"In?"

"You and the Strikes have got those Ties under control. I'm going to take the station."

"What?" Sabe paused, "The _whole_ station?"

"That sounded more arrogant than I meant it to," Anakin amended. "Look, we can't just blow it to space-dust. What if this isn't the only station like this, the only project Palpatine was working on? The commander of the station might know something, the data archives might be of some use. Either way, we need to get in there. You work on destroying the project. I'm going in."

"Like hell you are!" Sabe replied, and in an instant, Anakin saw her fighter break away from the tangle of battle and make for him. "At least not alone." He heard her switch over to the squadron channel and give orders to Tash to take the lead. With a bright burst of her thrusters, she came up in moments on his left side. "You got a plan?"

"Trust in the Force."

He expected her to hesitate, to demand something more of him or offer a plan of her own. But Sabe had spent years in the company of Jedi. The Force had become as much a part of her life as it was his. Anakin felt no hesitation from her, own grim determination.

With the Ties fully engaged with Strike squadron, and the station never having been equipped with shields or weaponry – the only ones who knew it existed were its allies, making either unnecessary – the two found it easy to slip past the monstrous shell and speed toward the station. The docking bay from which the Ties had come offered the perfect point of entry.

With a move familiar from his and Obi-wan's years in the Clone Wars, Anakin skid his landing gear over the pad as he came in, flipped open the cockpit and flew out in a flash of orange jumpsuit and blue blade. Senses on full alert, he scanned the hanger, but there were no life forms in the vicinity, no danger that he could detect. Everything was quiet: no alarms, no men running about, no droids or ships powering up in response to the rebels' presence.

Sabe's ship glided in a moment later and set down next to his. The cockpit top barely popped open before the young woman slung herself out and down the side to join him on the hanger floor. With a flick of her wrist, Sabe had removed her helmet and whipped out her blaster.

"Danger?"

"Don't sense any."

"The Tie pilots couldn't be the only ones here. Engineers and officers are probably farther inside."

"And stormtroopers too. Stick close." Anakin took a second to strip off his helmet and jump suit, not wanting either to get in his way should they – _when_ they – encountered trouble. "We get Artoo down, he'll access the station systems for us, give us a map of where the command center's to be found."

"No need," Sabe replied, and started jogging off through the hanger. "This way!"

"Hey!" Anakin called, running after her. He allowed himself a sigh in mingled exasperation and amusement, then locked down on his emotions and charged after the agent.

* * *

His hands flying over the controls, Luke swung the _Falcon_ around to engage another group of Tie fighters headed their way. So far, they had taken out nearly an entire squadron on their own, with barely a scratch on the old cargo ship. Luke hardly glanced at the consol as he flipped switches, hit buttons and checked the systems printout on the glowing data screen. The Ties came in closer, and the Force whispered.

"Now!"

Leia slammed her hand down on a series of buttons that Luke had pointed out to her earlier. The air in front of them sizzled with green laser bolts, but she didn't get the satisfaction of watching the fiery explosion that followed. Luke pulled back on the throttle and the _Falcon_ shot back up and over, performing a perfect roll before turning right-side up and heading at full speed in the reverse direction.

"How many more?" She asked her twin, not really understanding anything the ship's systems were trying to tell her.

"More than we can take care of," Her brother replied grimly, staring out the viewport.

Below them, the land swarmed with troopers and Imperial walkers. Battle droids left over from the Clone Wars were also present, striking at the mountain side in which the Blue Dust clan made their home. And somewhere within those mountains were their mother and uncle.

Another squadron of Ties were coming down on them. Some veered off to scorch the terrain, taking out both enemy and Imperial troops at the same time; the remainder headed straight for the one ship that had risen up against them. Leia reached again for the controls, swerving the big guns mounted on top of the ship back around to aim at the incoming fighters.

As she randomly pushed buttons, Luke focused on keeping them in the air. His crash course in flying from Han, combined with the Force and a Skywalker's natural flying ability made him a challenge for any enemy fighter. His father had told stories at bedtime about when he had been young and a podracer on Tatootine. A part of Luke had been thrilled with the idea of speed and danger, manipulating controls and using the Force to propel the pilot into incredible feats. The other part, the one deeply in tuned to the Force could sense the terrible implications of one mistake, however small, and was aware of how much was riding on each race. Now, as a pilot in his own dangerous situation, Luke didn't give a moment's thought to how exhilarating any of this could be.

Wreckage rained down around them as Leia's efforts destroyed a number of the income Ties. The survivors fired back, but unlike the Imperials, the _Falcon_ was equipped with strong shields.

"Good work."

Leia turned to respond to her brother's praise, and was able to grab the controls at just the last second, as a Tie came flying from below them on the left. The _Falcon_ swerved hard to the right and the Imperial shot up into the sky, having missed his intended target. They had only a second to breathe before he and the others would be on them again.

"Thanks," Luke beamed.

Leia poked him in the ribs. "Any time, little brother."

He rolled his eyes. "Gimme the controls again. I got an idea."

With a deftness that spoke of an experienced pilot, Luke swung the _Falcon_ away from the battle and headed for the mountain ranges. It dipped lower into the atmosphere, the Ties following close behind. A moment later, Luke killed the engines and they dropped.

Leia screamed and clung to the massive co-pilot's chair. The Ties fell in an arch after them.

Hands racing, Luke flipped one toggle, then another, and suddenly they were level again, racing through the mountain passages. The ship turned on her side, speeding between two peaks. The Ties that had been following too close behind smashed into the sides.

Another pair were coming in to take their place.

"Shot 'em, Leia! Shot 'em!"

The little girl wrenched her fingers off the armrests and started on the guns again. Blaster bolts shot from the Ties and smuggling vessel, some smashing against shields, other exploding in bright bursts along the rocky ledges of the mountains. All the while, Luke kept them airborne, sliding in between peaks, twisting and turning as the Force willed him.

"Hold on!" he warned as one of the Ties, its engines destroyed by Leia's fire, bounced off the rock wall and collided with them. The entire ship wailed as the fighter scraped across the top, taking one of the guns with it. The _Falcon_ wobbled, but righted again as the Tie careened off the edge and into the ravine below.

The last enemy fighter on their tail exploded behind them, and the _Falcon_ bust out of the mountain range with a victorious whine.

Luke was about to breathe a sigh of relief when the cockpit filled with a mighty roar. Huge, hairy paws lifted him up out of the pilot's seat and shook him till his teeth rattled.

With the cub stashed under his arm, Chewie forced his large frame into the seat usually reserved for Han and took the controls. He was howling something about reckless and foolhardy humans, but Luke couldn't quite make it out over the whine of more Ties approaching.

From the co-pilot's seat, his twin shook her head at him.

"You're really in trouble now."

* * *

Hope you liked,

Caslia


	54. Individual Journeys: Chapter 6

Hello and happy summer to everyone!

This next post has two actions scenes in it, with Anakin/Sabe and then Luke/Leia/Chewie. I just want to apologize in advance, as I still really haven't gotten the hang of writing this type (I prefer character introspective scenes and dialogue) but sadly, I wrote myself into this corner, so now I just have to suck it up and face it. Also, because of all the action, the post is a lot longer than I intended, but if I'm ever going to finish this, I have to keep to the outline and include all these scenes in this post.

After this post, there are only three left in _Individual Journeys_, and then the _Years the Followed_ Series ends and _Glimpses into the Future_ – a fifteen post epilogue – will begin. (I have taken care to ensure _GotF_ does not contain too many action scenes. :P )

Read on and enjoy. Reviews are _**GREATLY**_ appreciated, and thanks to those of you who have. :D

* * *

Chapter Nine:

_Individual Journeys_

Five Years After _Rebirth of the Light_

* * *

There was no doubt the station was equipped with some kind of surveillance system, and it was only a matter of time before they encountered trouble. Anakin wanted to make the most of that time.

Corridor after corridor, they sprinted through the station, heading deeper into the core where the control center was sure to be located. The inside of the station looked like every other Imperial structure Anakin had ever been in during his time as the commander of the Imperial forces. The same bland coloring, stiff architecture. Cold, impersonal - like everything else in the empire: orderly at the sake of individual freedoms. The further in they ran, the more claustrophobic he began to feel.

"You sure you know which way we need to be heading?" He asked Sabe as the corridor ahead of them ended in a blank wall.

"You sure you can detect trouble before it detects us?" she replied, glancing around in wary confusion.

"Now that you mention it," Anakin replied, hand flying to his lightsaber, "get down!" The words had barely left his mouth before the wall beside them vanished – _A hologram!_ _They've been leading us into a trap! _– and a squad of Imperial troopers open fired.

Sabe reacted instantly, ducking beneath Anakin and his ignited saber. As he deflected the shots, she rolled, came up behind him, and returned fire. They were so close to the troopers, barely three meters distance between them, that it was only the Jedi reflexes of her companion that offered them protection from the barrage of lasers.

The troopers had no such protection, from either Sabe's blaster or Anakin ricocheting their own bolts back at them. Those in the front dropped instantly; those in the back retreated in surprise.

Taking advantage of this, Anakin pushed forward, forcing the troopers back even farther into the new corridor. The troopers had come from somewhere in the interior. This just might be the door they were looking for.

As he continued to deflect the bolts, Anakin reached out to his enemies. He was relieved to sense these were clone troopers. He knew that, later, this would not make their deaths at his hands any easier – in the back of his mind, Anakin recognized that these and the Tie pilots were the first beings he had killed since renouncing the Darkside – he had been friends with many clone troopers during the wars, and their deaths had hurt as much as any other beings would have. But he was relieved they were not human or humanoid, that the Empire had yet to implement recruitment of Imperial citizens into the military.

Or they had, but none had been stationed here. Anakin felt slightly dizzy with the realization that he knew nothing of the Empire now, only what he learned through Alliance channels. _Focus!_ he told himself. He had not thought being back at an Imperial station, facing clone troopers, fighting those who had once been his to command, would have such an effect.

Sabe, in the meantime, had no problem taking out the troopers, firing with deadly precision into their midst. Only once does she miss; the bolt manages to ricochet off the side of a trooper's helmet, ping on the wall, and fly back at them. Sabe ducked, Anakin swung like he was aiming at a ball, and the bolt flew off again to take a trooper right between the visors on his helmet.

A whirl and clicking sound behind them momentarily startled them, having been so focused on the troopers. From around the corner where the corridor had ended, rolled two battle droids. They didn't look anything like the out-dated models used by the Separatists; their armor had an uncanny sheen to them, as if they had just been oiled, and their weapons had definitely undergone an upgrade.

With the arrival of the droids, the troopers fell back and ceased firing. Sabe kept her finger on trigger, her eyes on the clones. Anakin, at her back, turned to face the droids, his face setting into a looked of steeled determination. The light of his saber reflected off the droids, casting the corridor in a shimmering red hue.

"Lower your weapons," one of the troopers ordered in a voice tinged with a mechanic squeal from his vocorder. "You are under arrest for illegally entering a high-security station and firing on Imperial personnel. Lower your weapons and come with us."

"Oh, I don't think so," Sabe muttered. "Plan?"

"Yeah," Anakin replied evenly, eyeing the droids. "Take my hand."

"What? Why?"

"Put down your weapons!" the trooper commanded a second time, and this time, the battle droids raised their own level with the heads of their targets. It would take only a second, a single breath, to order them to fire.

"Now's really not the time to ask questions." He shifted his saber into his right hand and reached for her with his left. "Take my hand and don't let go."

Sabe did as ordered, feeling self-conscious of the strange action in such a situation.

Just as her fingers wrapped around his, the entire corridor, maybe even the entire station for all she knew, suddenly went dark. The lights went out like they were a snuffed-out candle, and the shock to her senses made Sabe go rigid with fear.

For a long, terrible moment, she was alone in the dark.

Then Anakin yanked on her hand, pulling her in a direction she could only hope was away from both troopers and droids. In the darkness, she could hear the troopers shouting, the blasting of weapons, the droids screeching, the pounding of feet. But all of that fell away behind them as Anakin, running full tilt, pulled her away from the mayhem. He was her guide, the Force his, and together they raced away before the battle droids could activate their search lights.

"What did you do?" she puffed in between breaths.

"Flipped one of the switches in the corridor," Anakin replied, and she could hear the smugness in his voice, so proud to have found a non-violent solution to their immediate predicament. "We've got only a few minutes before – "

Even as he said it, the lights switched on above them, blinking back into life and revealing their location to whoever was watching on the surveillance.

Just as quickly as the light flooded on again, Sabe and Anakin were down a side corridor, plunging back into the gloom as they entered the depths of the station. They had managed to find themselves in a narrow maintenance hallway, cut off from the bright, sterile halls used by the stations other inhabitance. The corridor narrowed further, and under their feet they heard not the thud of solid durasteel, but the hollow clang of meshed flooring. Wires hung overhead and the walls revealed their innards.

"Where are we?" Sabe demanded, looking overhead as they ran.

The Jedi gave her a baffled look over his shoulder. "_You're_ the one who's supposed to know that!"

They came to a halt, preparing to turn back, but in the quiet hum of the station, they heard something else. It was coming from back the direction they had run. For a moment, it sounded only like another part of the station working away, pinging sounds in the distance. Sabe made to head back that way, but Anakin pulled her to him, powered down his saber and listened.

"The droids," she whispered as the realization dawned. Anakin nodded, but remained quiet, hoping these were not equipped with some kind of scanning equipment. If they could sneak away –

"Run!" Sabe shouted, belting past him. The gleaming hulls of the droids rolled down the narrow space right towards them, and Anakin turned on his heel.

They sprinted through the narrow corridor, dodging the wiring and occasional container in their way. The droids had no such problems, barreling over everything, flashing brightly in the dark before vanishing again into the shadows. Gasping, Sabe glanced over her shoulder, past Anakin, fearing even a glimpse of their pursuers.

The darkness of the cramped space gave way ahead in a soft, purplish glow, and they raced gratefully towards it. In an instant, they were trapped not in a small maintenance corridor, but on a grated platform with railings, overlooking what had to be the operating core of the station. Above and below them, the space was a huge cylinder with smooth walls and tiny exhaust ports. High above, the reactor hummed and shivered, letting off an eerie purple light that barely illuminated the otherwise hollow chamber.

And there, further down the platform, stretching from their side of the chamber to another maintenance corridor on the other side, was a solid durasteel bridge with no rails. They made for it without a thought, taking their first steps down its length as the battle droids came crashing onto the platform behind them.

It was perhaps the worst place to be. They were grazing banthas as far as the droids were concerned, with nothing between them and the droids weapons, and nearly half a kilometer to the other side.

Anakin again ignited his saber, and put himself between the droids and Sabe, ready to provide the defense as they ran.

But the droids were not firing.

They stood, weapons at the ready, but seemed strangely content to watch their prey make their way speedily across the bridge.

"Why aren't they firing?" Sabe yelled back at him.

"I don't know," Anakin replied, hearing the Force whispering to him but unable to make it out. "But I've got a bad feeling about – "

There was a loud whirling mechanical sound, a reluctant screech as metal scraped against metal. Sabe stopped running and watched in horror as the middle section of the bridge broke with itself and began to slide inwards. Both side of the bridge became shorter and shorter each instant, their path to safety diminishing, leaving them with the chamber below and the droids behind.

Anakin cursed and reached to his belt for his cable before remembering he had left such Jedi tools in another life time. He had only his lightsaber, and silently prayed Sabe, as an experienced agent, carried something similar on her utility belt.

From the determined, focused look on her face, she did. Sabe whipped out a cord and began to swing it forcefully through the air.

Anakin glanced back at the quickly diminishing bridge, to the droids, then back to his companion. "Here, let me." With the Force, he could guide the hook the first time to an object that was strong enough and secure enough to hold their weight. But as he reached for the cord to take it from her, Sabe released it. With surprising accuracy, it sailed across the chamber and caught one of the exhaust vents.

Not nearly close enough to their only exit.

"Hold on," Sabe instructed, and as the end of the bridge reached their feet, she wrapped her arms around his torso, he wrapping his arms around her waist, and the two went flying through the air.

* * *

The sudden sense of danger was like a blaster bolt to his heart, and Obi-wan gasped in the darkness of the tunnel he had been following back to the chamber where the artifacts were stored. Choking on the blue dust that was sucked into his lungs, for a moment his eyes teared up. In the watery, painful spike caused by the dust, Obi-wan saw figures.

For an instant, he could see thousands of troopers engaging ragged looking warriors, of ships barreling down upon them. Then the ships were Sabe, and Anakin, hurtling through the air together, slamming into unforgiving durasteel. A ship, crashing into the base of a mountain, the familiar outline exploding in a cloud of dust.

And then it was dust he was seeing, blue dust swirling in the cave as he coughed and sent it spinning about.

But the vision, the vision had been real.

They were in danger. All of them, the natives and the twins and the others off wherever their mission had taken them.

Heart racing like crazy, Obi-wan's feet did their best to keep up with it, casting him through the tunnel in a head-long rush towards battle.

* * *

The chamber wall approached swiftly with the promise of a bone-crushing slam. Anakin spun them so that the impact would strike his back and hopefully protect Sabe from any injury. She tucked her head under his chin, her dark hair reminding him of Padme and how much he _really _wished he could be safe with her right now in their home on Thanatia, and then his back screamed as it connected with the wall.

He had thought he had braced himself well, but the impact knocked the wind out of him, and the saber out of his clenched hands. Anakin watched it forlornly through watery eyes as it dropped away beneath them, into the depths of the shadowed chamber.

He could almost hear the beginning of a Kenobi lecture.

That was when the droids started shooting again.

* * *

Twirling end over end, the saber fell through the empty space. Anakin had been close enough to the wall when he'd been forced to release it that the ends pinged against the wall a time or two, only aiding in its spiraling descent.

The floor raced up to meet it, with a loud sucking sound as a garbage chute opened up and sucked it out of the chamber. End over end, with a great rattle and the occasional set of sparks, the hilt collided against the chute walls as it made its way towards the end, where it would be evacuated into space.

But halfway through the chute, the hilt crashed against a corner as the tunnel made a turn, hitting the ignition button. Immediately, the bright blue blade flared to light, slicing through the chute. It left a trail of dark scorch marks as it burned through the metal and in some places into wiring. Then, through either a bit of luck or the will of the Force, the blade made quick work of a vent and sailed out of the chute. As it met the end of the vent, the hilt once again slammed up against the wall, disengaging the blade.

The lightsaber clattered out of the vent, rolled a ways and finally came to rest in a corridor.

* * *

Even at this distance, the droids had remarkable accuracy, and the bolts rained around them. Anakin and Sabe hung from the cable, listlessly swinging against the wall without anything to find purchase on. They managed to avoid the bolts by leveling against the wall with their boots and kicking off as a bolt drew near them. It worked for the first few moments, but almost immediately they needed to think up something else.

"Tell me you've been in worse spots," Sabe called over the resounding echoes of firing in the chamber.

"Well," Anakin replied while eyeing the wall and then the vent high above them for some possible escape, "there was that time I ended up nearly being burned alive in a river of lava. Of course, I was evil at the time, so on some level, I probably deserved it." He flashed her a brief smile that was meant to be reassuring.

Sabe swung out away from the wall, missing yet another blaster bolt from the droids. When her boot flew back from the motion, she managed to kick Anakin in the shin.

"Ow!"

"Well, stop squirming!"

"Squirming is the only thing keeping us alive!"

Following his words, there was an ominous sound from above, and the two looked up to find that the droids had redirected their aim. They were no longer shooting at their prey, but on the cable from which they hung.

Skywalker looked at the vent, wondering if somehow they could climb up the cable before it was too late and crawl into the chute. But the distance was too great. Then he noticed the next vent that was level with the one they were presently hanging from had another some twenty meters below it. Now there was an idea.

"Hold on." Then he pushed off from the wall again and looked down. Sure enough, there was another vent directly below them. He looked to Sabe. "Release the cord." He expected her to stare at him like he was crazy, but once again, the agent surprised him. Releasing her clasped hands from around his chest, stopped from plummeting only by the his hands around her waist, Sabe reached for the release on her belt.

Then they were falling.

With a slight push from the Force, Anakin blew the gate off the vent and as they sailed past it, he reached out and grabbed hold of the edge. Sabe gave a slight gasp, now only suspended by one arm, and grabbed desperately at his tunic. Anakin grimaced, his arm screaming in pain, and he feared he might have dislocated the shoulder.

They had only moments before the droids would figure out their prey hadn't fallen to their deaths. With a deep breath, and the help of the Force, Anakin hoisted Sabe above him. She grabbed onto the edge of the vent and pulled herself in. It was too tight of a space for her to turn around and pull him in after her, but with both hands now at his disposal, Skywalker did the deed himself and followed her in.

They crawled far enough in that the bolts from the droids couldn't reach them, then Anakin collapsed and pressed his face against the cold dursteel of the vent, relief flooding through him.

"So," Sabe managed between her labored breathing. "You and Obi-wan used to do this sort of thing often?"

"Whenever we could find the time." He joked, but it tasted sour even as he said it.

There was a pang of guilt over the thought of his lightsaber, probably space dust by now. Obi-wan had given him the crystals for it, crystals that had been from Siri, the first woman the other Jedi had loved. But, Anakin thought to himself, better that he had dropped the saber then later dropping Sabe when he had needed that hand free to catch her.

In the sudden quiet after the chamber, he could hear her up ahead, breathing hard but hiding her fear well. Now he had a moment to think beyond their survival, Anakin was amazed at the depth of trust she continued to show him.

The tiny darkness and their harsh breathing suddenly reminded him of when Sabe had shoved him into the kitchenette of his wife's quarters on at the base. He couldn't help but smile. The two of them sure had a knack for getting into trouble together.

"We make a good team," Sabe laughed, as though reading his mind. Then she was off and down the vent, despite being completely blind in the darkness. "Come on, Skywalker. Try and keep up."

She had no idea where she was going, but Sabe figured they would come upon another vent before too long, hopefully out into a hallway or a room of some type, and after that they could get their bearings. The near-death experience, not her first by any long-shot, had adrenaline pumping through her at an alarming rate, and Sabe pushed onward with a blind determination.

When the floor gave way beneath her, she wasn't ready for it.

She called out for Anakin, felt her shoulder connect hard with a wall to her right, and the rush of air as she slid down the vent at a steep angle.

"Sabe!"

Anakin rushed forward, grasping in the dark with both hands and the Force, but found nothing. He could sense her, but not her exact location. And then he was falling, hitting the wall on his left and sliding off down the vent.

It wasn't as steep as he thought it would have been, but Anakin still felt a jolt of fear. Not for himself; for Sabe, whose presence was getting farther and farther away from him. The vent must have split, and in the dark, he went down one way, and she the other.

They were separated. He was weaponless. Relief came only for a moment, when a light up ahead announced a vent, then he went sailing through it, out into a hallway, smashing against the opposite wall.

With a groan, Anakin lay motionless on the floor on his side. There wasn't a part of him that didn't hurt. Carefully, he creaked open one eye. At first, all he saw was the gray contours of another bland, gray wall. Then the gray was interrupted by two black shapes. After a moment, Anakin realized they were boots.

"Well," a voice announced, heavily accented with the clipped tones of the Core, "this isn't quite what I've come to expect of Jedi. A little rusty, Lord Vader?"

Anakin groaned as he recognized the voice and pushed himself wearily up on his hands and knees.

"It's Skywalker, Admiral."

"Admiral? Hardly. It's _Grand Moff_ now, _Skywalker_." Tarkin grinned a slim, oily grin before reaching down to offer the other his hand and helped him up. "Welcome to my station."

* * *

In the quiet of the cavern, Padme wandered from shelf to shelf, examining the thousands of Jedi items that six years ago she would never have been allowed to know of, much less examine.

Lightsabers she was familiar with, as both Anakin and Obi-wan carried one, and she had been on numerous missions with them in the past. But she had rarely handled them, or taken notices of the different styles other Jedi carried. Holocoms, training devices, crystals; thousands of shelves held thousands of curious items for her eager fingers to hold and explore. Things her husband knew, her brother-in-law, one day, her children. It was a world she was just on the outside of, and Padme knew this was how most in the galaxy felt about the Jedi.

Farther back in the cavern, lit by the luminous glow of the computer module, she could hear Threepio and Solo exchanging words.

"Oh," the droid was complaining in his familiar whine, "if only Artoo were here! This hunk of junk computer isn't listening to a word I'm saying!"

"That ain't exactly anything new," Han muttered to himself, busy lying on his back under the system, fighting with the wiring. "Listen, Goldenrod, we didn't bring you here to carry on a little chat with your new pal here. Just get it to bypass any security systems and download its guts!"

"I am _trying_, Captain Solo."

The adolescent sighed and pushed himself out from underneath the machine. Trying to manually download the files wasn't doing any good, and he was concerned about pushing his luck with any further amateur hacking. "Hey, you're a Jedi droid, ain't ya? Do or do not; there is no sithing try here, buddy."

"Again, Captain, my name is See-Threepio. And as a droid, I don't necessarily have access to the Force, though in the recent past, my counterpart Artoo – so unfortunate that you haven't had the chance to make his acquaintance – has claimed to have seen a _ghost_!And I suppose that _would_ require some Force ability - "

"Would you quit yakking at me and talk to the computer?!"

The droid's stance seemed to stiffen, given the impression of a huff, then turned to the consol. A series of twirps and beeps were exchanged, the monitor flashed and code began to scroll down the screen.

"How very interesting!" Threepio cried. With a stiff jerk, he reached over and pressed buttons on the consol. "Captain, downloading of the files has begun."

The screen flashed again, a time bar appearing at the bottom as more and more of the files transferred over from the computer's databank to the datapads they had brought along.

"What've we got, professor?"

"It's quite remarkable, Captain Solo. There are personal files here, detailing where each Jedi child came from, and mission reports. And here," he pointed to a folder that hadn't begun downloading yet, "lesson plans, written accounts of theological discussions. The history of the Order, dealings with the Republic, some of these files reaching all the way back to the end of the Tetra Empire!"

Threepio stepped aside as Padme approached. She stared at the screen, watching her children's future dissolve into code and reappear on the datapad her droid held.

"Well done, Threepio." She murmured. "Captain, we owe you a great deal of gratitude."

Han stared down at his boots, hoping to hide his blush of pleasure.

"Aw, you don't owe me anything, your ladyship. Just glad I could help."

Padme looked over at him, hearing the underlying message behind his words. The boy was proud to have been a part of something like this. When they returned to base, she would have to remember to make recommendations on his behalf. The future was more than just her children and the Jedi Order. It was the valiant efforts on the parts of the rebels. And of young Han Solo, and others like him.

"Alright then," she said, smiling as Threepio passed her the first full datapad. "Let's get started."

* * *

If it wasn't clear to the warriors of the Blue Dust clan that this was a losing battle to begin with, they were certainly made aware of it before long. The clone troopers continued to push them further and further back towards the mountains, merciless in their killing and single-minded in their destination. Though the clan numbered in some few thousands, the Imperials had sent thousands more to the planet to contain the native population.

Above, Ties rained down relentless fire, careless of their targets. Their lasers scorched the surface, exploded against the foothills in bright bursts of blue and orange flame. The charred remains of natives and Imperials alike dotted the terrain.

At last, the warriors could take no more. En mass, they disengaged and fled back towards the caves along the mountains' sides. The troopers gave chase, but as the last natives slipped into the mountain's openings, others above let loose huge nets containing boulders. They came crashing down the mountain side, a flurry of rock and dust, to slam down upon the few troopers who had made it to the caves. The rocks settled in the dust, effectively barring the entrance to the clan's fortress, where they hoped to outlast the Imperial siege.

After a brief cheer for their victory, however minor, the warriors on the cliffs dashed inside, before the Ties zeroed in on their new targets.

The twins caught only glimpses of what was going on down below. They were too busy helping their Wookie companion fight off the entire squadron that had set its sights on the _Falcon_.

Chewie had at first issued a strict order that the cubs return to the lounge. But Leia had proved herself a fair gunner, and Luke kept a sharp eye on the scanners while Chewie fought to keep the Imperial fighters off their tail. He gave a howl of protest as one of them took a shot at their scope, missing only by a meter as the _Falcon_ preformed another defensive maneuver.

The entire ship rocked as a Tie came up on their left and slammed into them with its wings. The cockpit's occupancy were nearly knocked from their seats by the impact, but Leia held on and with impressive accuracy, blasted the eyeball with one of the side guns.

"Take that!" she cried defiantly.

Chewie joined her with a long growl, then woofed in astonishment as three Ties in tight formation suddenly appeared in the viewport, headed in a beeline straight for them. He pulled back on the thruster, banking hard and swinging them to the left. They slammed into another group that had been trying to sneak up on that side, effectively sending their enemies spiraling out of the sky.

"Hard to starboard! Chewie, hard to starboard!" Luke cried, and just as the Wookie managed the sudden maneuver, the _Falcon_'s left side skimmed along a cliff.

"Hold on, cubs," he barked, yanking on the controls and sending them back towards the mountains. "We're going to try your little trick again. Strap down."

Obediently, both children snuggled into the oversized co-pilot's chair, grabbed the restraining mesh, and belted themselves in. Silently, his eyes still on the scanners and scopes flashing on the control panel, Luke reached between them and took his sister's hand.

"Don't let go, okay?"

Leia nodded, her little body trembling in fright as she sensed what her brother had already known. "Okay," she whispered back.

Then the ship shook, and began to buck in the air.

Chewbacca howled in surprise and turned to look at the controls. The panel was lit up, flashing red and yellow, alarms blaring throughout the cockpit. One particular warning frightened him the most. Their engines had been hit, and they were losing altitude.

His massive paws clutching the controls, eyes on the horizon, Chewie sent up a prayer to the mystical power that had until now protected them. If he could reach the plateau outside the mountains before the ship went down, there was a chance he could bring it in with the belly of the hull taking the brunt of the damage. Otherwise, they would surely be destroyed.

But they were going down too fast. The engines were dead, the hydraulics on their last breath. And two young cubs in the seat next to him, shaking but staring determinedly ahead. Counting on him.

Chewbacca roared, pushed down on the thrusters as far as they would go. They passed one peak, then another, dipping further and further into the range. The Ties had left off their firing, seeing the _Falcon_ managing to stay airborne only by coasting on its last thrust of energy.

The entire ship shuddered and screamed as its port side connected with a mountain, then tilted on its side, skidding down a sharp cliff on its belly.

There was a terrible screech as hull gave way, an explosion. Glass broke, metal collapsed in the heat. Even the blue dust was devoured in the wake of the crash.

With the warriors retreated into their mountains and the _Falcon_ vanished with a burst of fire into the depths between the ranges, the former battlegrounds echoed with a horrible silence.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed. I had the most fun with the Sabe/Anakin dialogue. Too much with the RotS reference she unknowingly makes?

Caslia


	55. Individual Journeys: Chapter 7

So, I got my hands on the _Legacy_ comics this past month, and it totally bummed me out. Obviously, the battle between "good" and "evil" will go on forever, but there's something very depressing about the thought that this struggle continues on for one family over and over again. All this effort to save Anakin, and generations later, Cade is busy singing the same old rhyme – "I know I have this incredibly important destiny, but I don't want anything to do with it, I just want to fulfill my own self-centered desires no matter what's going on in the galaxy." So I was a little peeved with the Skywalker family for a while (or maybe fate, or the Force, or whatever) and so that's why the posts haven't been coming along. But I've forgiven them (for the time being, until the next installment comes out).

I'm going to add here that the up-coming scene with Threepio and Artoo are short and unremarkable, but important for me on a personal level. The droids in the Star Wars universe don't get much credit, and other than Chewie and a few others, the aliens are more or less ignored as well. The blame for this can be placed on the fact that there is presently no other recognized fully-sentient life on Earth other than our own, so we tend to focus in more on the humans. But I've always felt that Threepio and Artoo are just as much people in their own right as any of the other characters, regardless of the make-up of their innards. And sometimes, the other characters act in a way that suggests their feelings on the matter (Obi-wan's originally low opinion of droids and aliens verse Han's relationship with Chewie but disrespect for Threepio, verse Luke's camaraderie with both.) I've been bad and haven't given much time to either of the droids in the RotL series, so this is my short look into human-droid relationships in the Skywalker family, because I whole-heartedly believe they are, in fact, family members.

As always, I own nothing, and reviews are greatly appreciated. **Thanks for your patience.**

* * *

Chapter Nine:

_Individual Journeys_

Five Years After _Rebirth of the Light_

* * *

When nearly a half-hour had passed and still there were no alarms, Artoo knew something had gone wrong.

For all his spontaneity, there was an incredibly predictable pattern to how Anakin ran his missions. The little droid had been on more than enough adventures with Skywalker to know the order of things, and there should have been alarms and explosions by this point. Therefore, he could only assume something had gone wrong and his friends needed rescuing.

It didn't take much to convince the X-wing to release the locks on its droid unit. With a well-controlled firing of his jets, Artoo was up and out of his compartment and carefully lowering himself to the hanger floor. He took a moment to remotely lock the cockpit, then swerved on his wheels and took off across the immense space left empty by the Tie's earlier departure.

Reaching a control panel, he popped out his connecter and plugged in.

_Authorization to use this port is required,_ the central computer informed him.

_Hello,_ Artoo replied. Unlike his counterpart, he never felt one should be remiss about manners, even under duress. _I'd like access to your security files, if you don't mind._

_Authorization to access files is required._

Well, so much for diplomacy. _Grant me access or I will fry your circuit breaker._

_Provide proper authorization codes now or you will be in violation of code - _

Artoo didn't wait for the rest. He jammed a second connecter into an additional port and did a droid version of slick-fingered hacking, by-passing the programming and going right to the mainframe.

_Access granted,_ the computer belatedly acknowledged.

_Thanks!_ Artoo replied, and proceeded to wreak a little havoc of his own.

* * *

"Tarkin," Anakin groaned in greeting. "I thought this station reeked of something foul."

Kneeling on the floor and taking a moment to catch his breath, Skywalker took a quick glance of the room. Behind him, the only exit. Across the room was a large view port looking out into space. Lights flashed and computer banks filled every other available surface. If this wasn't the control room, Anakin was a Wookie's hairless nephew.

Now would be a really good time to have a lightsaber. Or even someone to watch his back. But he was separated from Sabe, he had no weapon, and one of the last people he ever wanted to see again was leaning over him.

The touch of Tarkin's hand as the Grand Moff helped Anakin up was enough to send tingles down the Jedi's arm, screaming danger.

Images and feelings flashed just out of reach, a sense of having been standing in this room before, of Darkness and despair and a familiar, frightened presence pressed up against him as the planet from his dream exploded before them. Anakin had the terrible, haunting feeling he had somehow been involved, and then the memory-that-wasn't-a-memory of that unmade future faded away to reveal Tarkin's pale, smug face.

"I must say, _Skywalker_, that despite your rather juvenile attempt at infiltrating my station, I am somewhat impressed. With your appearance, if nothing else."

The Imperial casually eyed the Jedi as he circled him, hands clasped demurely behind him, every inch the stiff Imperial boot-licker. Anakin ground his teeth and fought his natural impulse to physically abuse the man. Even during the short time they had served together, Vader had despised the other and longed for Tarkin's downfall. And here they were, all these years later.

"If I recall," Tarkin remarked casually, coming round to face the Jedi once again, "the last time I saw you, you were decked out in one of the most hideous contraptions I'd ever seen. Quite terrifying. Of course, that was the point, wasn't it? And here you are now, wearing –?" he gestured to Anakin's outfit with a contemptuous wave of his hand.

"Rebel fatigues," Anakin replied. "Surprised you didn't recognize the style. It's become all the rage off Coruscant."

Tarkin chuckled and picked an invisible bit of space lint off Anakin's shoulder. "How droll of you. I see the influence of that wife of yours. Only she would be clever enough to use fashion as a means of discussing galactic politics."

Just keep him talking, Anakin thought to himself, and figure out a way to gain the upper-hand of the situation. They needed Tarkin, with all he might know about this station and other imperial projects, alive. "Yeah, well, I heard that jocularity can diffuse a tense situation."

"Tense? This is just two old friends talking."

"Friends? You don't know the meaning of the word, Tarkin."

For a moment, something dark flashed across the Imperial's face. "And you do, I'm supposed to assume? _You_, the traitor?"

Anakin could feel his anger bubbling just below the surface. "I betrayed the Republic, yes, and I am not proud of that. But I can't be considered a traitor for having left the Empire, not when _all it _has ever done is betray the people of this galaxy!"

Tarkin grinned slightly before turning away and walking to stare out the large view port, through which the continuing battle between _Strike_ squadron and the station's Ties could be seen. "Your time among those mongrel rebels has played with your memory. You've forgotten the chaos the Republic was in, the effects of an endless war, the decline of justice and order."

Anakin watched the fighters, thinking back on another time and place. "No. I've not forgotten."

"No, you wouldn't have. You and I both fought in those battles. And then, came the Empire. Then came order, and the galaxy once again knew peace. Until," Tarkin turned back, a dangerous edge in his steel eyes, "you and your rebel friends. Tell me, _Lord Vader_, how do you reconcile having brought us all to the brink of war again, hmm? What…_sweet stories_ have your dear rebel leaders told you now? Are they similar to the ones fed to you by the Jedi? Stories of your own grandeur and heroism?"

Anakin felt the barb, but did his best not to show it. Tarkin would well remember the "Hero With No Fear" from the Clone Wars. How easily, willingly even, the young Jedi had bought into that.

"There's nothing sweet about what our intel tells us about what the Empire has been doing to its subjects."

"Oh no? I suppose as a rebel, you have an interest now in anarchy, rather than peace."

"Now who's telling stories?!" Anakin snapped, storming toward Tarkin with fists clenched. "You don't give a _damn_ about _peace_, and what passes for _order_ in the Empire is nothing more than oppression and tyranny! You benefit from it, and that's all that matters to you, _Grand Moff_." Seething, Skywalker pulled up short of the Imperial, face illuminated by the pulse and flares of the star fight going on outside. "Not too long ago, I wasn't any better. But now I _won't_ stand by and watch worlds suffer simply to fulfill the maniacal desires of people like you. The Empire, _this station_ and all that it stands for, _will_ be stopped."

With a wave of his hand and a tsk-tsking sound, Tarkin dismissed him and gracefully slipped past the Jedi. "Come now, Skywalker. Even if you were to manage in destroying this station – which, by the way, is highly unlikely, seeing as you have brought with you only a single squadron and even the great Anakin Skywalker needs more than that to take on the _Death Star_ – it will do you no good. Honestly, what is your plan after this? Siege Coruscant? Take on the entire Core? I assure you, even if your little rebellion _did_ have the resources to stage such a massive coup, the Emperor would never surrender to you."

One of the computer lights began to flash a brilliant red, signaling an alarm had been tripped somewhere. Good; that probably meant Sabe was alive and doing her best to be a nuisance, or maybe Tash and the others had started taking bites out of the station with their torpedoes.

Anakin allowed a small smile to creep through. "Give it up, Tarkin. The secret's out. Palpatine is dead, and the galaxy is on its way out of this dark shadow the Sith and the Empire have cast over it. You're simply delaying the inevitable."

For a moment, the Moff simply stared at him, face slouched in pale contempt. More lights around the control room began to flash, signally trouble, but both men kept their eyes rigid on the other.

Then Tarkin straightened his shoulders, lifted his chin, and offered a grin that bordered on the obscene.

"Oh, my dear friend. For all your noble claims of having seen the light, you are still so blind."

Tarkin's hand moved toward a button on the computer consol behind him. If he had been paying more attention to the Imperial's actions rather than their diatribe, Anakin might have noticed before how strategically the Moff had arranged them both – Skywalker across the room at the view port and Tarkin between him and the controls.

"The Empire will live on, even without the Emperor. We are far too numerous, too far reaching, with both endless amounts of time and resources. When generations from now read of this time, there will be a small paragraph dedicated to the struggles of this rebellion, and end on a fitting note of how easily it was put down. No one will remember you as anything more than a traitor, while Palpatine and men like myself will become the heroes of history. It's you who's been delaying the inevitable."

The button lighted up under Tarkin's hand, the self-destruct mechanism for the station activated.

Silently gathering the Force around him, Anakin prepared to send the Imperial flying with a Force push.

"The Emperor may be dead, and we may soon join him, but others will come after us who will continue to build on what we have achieved. There will be other emperors, other _Death Star_ stations, and certainly other Darth Vaders. Eventually, the rebellion is doomed."

* * *

Sabe counted herself lucky that so far she had managed to evade any more encounters with battle droids. She hadn't been so lucky with the two squads of stormtroopers that had her cornered in another maintenance hallway that bridged off a main corridor.

Going down the maintenance route wasn't an option – it would lead her farther away from where her intel told her the control room was – but the continuous blaster bolts from the troopers blocked every chance of diving out from safety and making a run for it down the hallway. On top of that, she had no idea what had happened to Anakin after parting ways in the shaft, and surely they were running out of time before _Strike_ squadron began taking hits at the station.

She would have a few choice words for Anakin when they got out of here.

"I could use some help here," she muttered to herself.

And it came, just at that moment.

The station was equipped with blast doors throughout the corridors, so that should part of the station be destroyed, the doors could seal and preserve atmosphere in the undamaged sectors. This meant little to Sabe, as the blast doors were controlled remotely and she had no access to them. But right at that moment, something activated them, and the entire station seemed to have suddenly gone crazy.

The blast door between Sabe and the troopers slid started to close. The troopers began to shout, issuing pointless orders into the helmet mics. Sabe was forced to fly back as the shield door between the maintenance hallway and the main corridor closed. There was a brief moment of panic that she would be unable to do anything but head off into the dark, then the doors slid open again.

The door down the hall away from the troopers started to close, just as the one across from it started to open again. Through the small square opening, Sabe could see the troopers reorganizing, preparing to start shooting again as soon as they had a visual.

It was all the time she needed. Without glancing back, she sprinted from her hiding place and charged down the hall in the opposite direction. The space between the blast doors kept getting smaller and smaller. Behind her, she could hear the mechanical voices of the troopers, the powering up of their blasters.

With a deep breath and a silent prayer to the Force, Sabe tucked her chin and sprang, cat-like, through the narrow opening remaining.

A moment later and she gracefully rolled back into fighting stance on the other side of the now-sealed blast door.

She had only a second to breathe and to plan.

A glint from the floor caught her eye, and Sabe looked down to find another welcome surprise –Anakin's lightsaber, looking not the worst for wear from its brief jaunt through the exhaust shaft.

The sight of it, lying disengaged on the corridor floor, made her heart quiver for its owner, wondering what had become of him. Surely Skywalker was still in the fight, maybe even a few steps ahead of her, already in the process of taking control of the station. The blast doors might even be his work. But no time for such thoughts – the doors would be opening in another moment, and she needed to be at the next one to make her way further down the hall before the troopers arrived.

Reaching down, the grabbed the weapon, feeling reassured simply by the weight of it in her hand.

"I'll get this back to you," she promised her absent friend before clipping it to her utility belt. "And then I'll use it to bash you over the head for wandering off on your own."

The hallway curved slightly and Sabe raced down it, hoping to gain a little extra cover before the doors behind her opened again. As she approached the end, the blast door in front of her swung open, revealing more endless gray hallway. But it shouldn't be much farther from here to the control room.

She ducked through the blast doors and breathed a sigh of relief as they closed behind her without her having to dodge a single shot.

And for the second time, all the lights went out.

* * *

Artoo gave a whoop in surprise. _That_ wasn't meant to happen. In the eerie darkness of the hanger, he swerved his dome, the blue glow of his eye the only light.

_Turn the lights back on!_ He ordered the central computer.

_Unauthorized access had been identified and overridden. System has powered down until proper authorization is provided._

His little framed shuddered in annoyance and Artoo seriously considered blasting the panel with a shock from his prod. But that wouldn't do any good. The station didn't seem to have enough self-awareness to be able to appreciate that kind of threat.

_Here's your "proper authorization,"_ Artoo retorted, blowing an electronic raspberry.

When they got out of this, he would demand Anakin give his systems an upgrade. It would be incredibly embarrassing if anyone, especially Threepio, ever found out he had been outsmarted by this floating jetsam of Imperial hardware.

With a few choice words about the _Death Star_'s creator, Artoo went back to work.

* * *

Anakin could not have thought of a more convenient thing happening just at that moment.

As Tarkin pressed down on the kill switch and Anakin reached out with all the power the Force could lend him, everything in the control room suddenly shut down. The lights on the computer bays flickered out, the interior illuminating system cut off, even the system that pumped recycled air through hummed and then died. Only a dim red glow from the emergency lighting offered any respite.

Of the two of them, Tarkin seemed the least surprised, probably because he thought it had something to do with his finger pressing down the self-destruct. But when the loss of power didn't follow with an explosion, panic replaced the smug look of triumph.

Before the Imperial could tense, Anakin struck.

The force of the non-corporeal blow sent Tarkin streaking away in the darkness. The dull thud of his slim body against the doors announced the end of his short flight. The following groan told Anakin he hadn't killed the other man, but even injured, Tarkin was still a threat.

The Jedi approached the other warily.

"Well then," the Grand Moff replied around a mouthful of blood, "see how easily our positions are reversed?"

It would be impossibly easy to kill Tarkin right now. So easy to remove another stain from the fabric of the galaxy. Fett had taken out the Emperor, and Anakin could take out Tarkin, never again having to worry about the influence this man might yield, the way he could potentially twist and manipulate others in the future.

But Anakin didn't give the option much thought.

"Surrender," he ordered softly in the darkness. Then he offered the other his hand. "Please."

* * *

"We're running short here," Han muttered, handing over one of the last data chips they were downloading the Jedi archives' databanks onto.

"And still so much here," Padme breathed, amazed at the depth of information in the archives databanks. "Surely we have the more relevant data – training techniques and the like. The historical information we can come back for another time. Threepio, how far along are you?"

The golden droid sat stiffly in front of the terminal, still awkwardly tapping at keys. "Oh, Mistress Padme! Not nearly as far along as I'd like. Oh, this contraption is so old, it makes me look like I just came off the production line! I am terribly sorry this is taking so long."

"Don't be," Padme laughed. "And for the record, I think you look as wonderful as the first day Anakin introduced us."

If droids could blush, Threepio would have glowed. "You are too kind, Mistress."

"Padme!"

The shout from across the cavern made all three, even the droid, jump in surprise. From out of a dark side tunnel, in a swirl of blue dust and shadow, Obi-wan appeared, face flushed and lightsaber in hand. Setting sight upon his companions, he darted towards them.

"Padme, we've got to get out of here, now!"

She didn't bother to ask why – too many missions had graced the former senator with the experience necessary to react to the tension in her friend's voice. She grabbed their bags before casting a glance at the computer.

"We don't have much downloaded."

"There's no time for that," the Jedi replied, "The Imperials think they'd got an uprising on their hands and are sending more troops to the surface. We've got to get back to the _Falcon_." He didn't have the heart to tell her what he'd seen in the vision. What had become of the twins, Obi-wan didn't know, didn't dare reach out with the Force to find out. He could only hope if they got to the crash site in time, there might be some hope.

"If those blasted Imps have touched my ship…" Han growled, grabbing datachips and stuffing them into his bag. "Come on, Goldenrod, didn't you hear? We got to get outta here."

Already the three humans were halfway across the cavern, making for the tunnel that would lead them back out into the crevice. Threepio totted behind for a moment before stopping completely.

"Come on, Threepio," Obi-wan shouted, desperation clawing at his insides. Images of the ship crashing against the mountainside tugged at his vision, demanding attention.

But the droid didn't budge. Instead, he stood as straight as he possibly could, yellow eyes glowing. His face, though never changing, seemed to be set in a sort of grim determination.

"No, Master Kenobi. I fear I will only slow you down."

"Threepio!" Padme started back towards him, but Han reached out and held her back by her uninjured arm.

"Go, Mistress Padme."

They left him standing in the bright light of the cavern as they plunged into the darkness. Silently, the droid watched them go before turning back to the computer consol. At the very least, he could make good use of his time.

* * *

"Now I _know_ this is Anakin's doing," Sabe growled to herself.

Emergency lighting had flickered on along the floor panels, but overall it didn't offer much. In addition, the blast doors on either side of her were sealed shut, and this portion of the corridor didn't offer a maintenance entrance even if she had been willing to take the risk of getting lost again.

From the other end of the hallway, Sabe could hear pounding on the door and the occasional shot being fired. These must have been the dumbest bunch of clones if the troopers were actually trying to burn their way through.

The thought sparked an idea and Sabe reached down for the lightsaber on her belt.

She didn't particularly know a lot about lightsabers. After all, they were exclusively a Jedi weapon, and though she and Obi-wan were now together (Force, at this particular moment, she missed him desperately) she had few chances to examine him making use of his. But the idea around utilizing the sizzling blade seemed pretty basic – slice through things and block blaster bolts without slicing off body parts – so potentially she could make this work.

Positioning herself in front of the blast door, Sabe held the hilt at a diagonal angle and pressed the ignition.

Immediately, the space lit up in a soft blue hue and the blade shimmered and hummed before her. Clasping it in both hands, she still felt a little unsteady, but turned with determination towards the blast door.

The saber cut into it smoothly, leaving a trail of molten orange metal in its wake as she slid it upwards. Ideally, Sabe hoped to carve a semi-circle in the door small enough that she didn't waste any time making a larger space, but large enough so she could fit through with brushing up against the scorched edges.

"This isn't so bad," she muttered to herself. "Break out of here, get to the control room, take over the station. Gain bragging rights over Skywalker. Things are looking up."

Then, with a brilliant flare, the power kicked back in. Sabe was momentarily blinded and sent flying backwards. She crashed to the floor from the shock of it, barely missing the still-ignited blade of Anakin's saber.

With a screech that tore at the ears, the blast door down the hall wrenched open and stormtroopers poured into the corridor.

They started firing immediately, and purely on instinct, Sabe raised the blade to protect herself.

Bolts sang against the weapon as others left scorch marks on the floor beside her. Half-kneeling now, Sabe kept the blade in front of her, deflecting as many shots as she could. The troopers crowded the corridor, filling her vision, the screaming of blasters renting the air. Gasping, she fought off sudden panic, focusing on the shimmering blade, on how she had seen Obi-wan and Anakin wield it in practice. She was without the Force, but the more Sabe concentrated, the more deftly she swung the saber to block the on-coming assault.

But she knew she couldn't hold up forever. There were too many of them, pushing forward, relentless. To reach for her own blaster would mean releasing control over the lightsaber, leaving her vulnerable.

She was forced back a step, then another, and another as the squad pushed forwards. The hum of the lightsaber filled the air now, as she struck out at every bolt that came near her. It was a dazzling display, and for just a moment, Sabe imagined this is what Obi-wan felt every time he intuned himself to the Force. For a moment, she was a Jedi, a warrior of the Force, and she would _not_ be beaten.

It was in that second of sheer certainty that she realized the blast door she had been trying to cut through was gone. She was home free, no more than a few meters from here to the door that would take her into the control center of the _Death Star_.

If she could reach it, and seal the doors behind her before the troopers gained access as well, the entire station would be under her command.

"Here goes," she muttered.

* * *

The Force warned him that something was about to happen, but Anakin was anticipating a threat from Tarkin, and so was caught off-guard when the lights flared back on. He stepped back, away from the door and the fallen Imperial, but remained cautious all the same.

"Well?"

From the floor came a dry chuckle that sent shivers down Anakin's spine. Memories taunted him, of another man with that same cold laughter. The stars had nearly been drowned in that bitter humor.

"Oh, you Jedi scum," Tarkin laughed, hauling himself slowly to his feet. He stood at an awkward angle, and one of his arms hung limp at his side. But there was a baleful pride that still clung to him, as if even in his ragged defeat there was still some dark victory. "You can't even kill me, can you? Too afraid – of your pitiful beliefs and your own inner demons. How do you ever hope of ruling the galaxy if you can't even rule yourself, Skywalker?"

Anakin was quiet a moment, staring at the man. In him, he could see the viciousness and cruelty of a former master and the selfish impulses that had been his own in another lifetime. But beyond those, he could also see the darkness that had once stared back at him from a mirror, the ruins of a man who knew nothing of any sort of kindness.

"I'll settle for a place to call home and the companionship of good friends," he replied, voice tinged with pity.

Then Tarkin collapsed, as a blaster bolt came singing through the blast doors as they opened and struck him in the back. Troopers stormed forwards, charging towards the control center, heedless of having just killed their superior officer, focused only on the dancing form of a woman and the blue shimmering blade she held.

Anakin reached out instinctively as she backed into him, his arms going around her and dragging her down to the floor. Blaster bolts whizzed over their heads a moment before Anakin palmed the door with the Force, sealing them both inside the control room.

Silence descended almost instantly.

Sabe lay on her side, staring into the still-brightly glowing light of the saber. She breathed a moment, feeling the adrenaline course through her. Behind her, Anakin rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, not saying a word.

There was a warm sensation tangled up around his breastbone, accompanied by the thud-thudding of his heart and the living presence of his friend beside him. For all its vague familiarity, Anakin couldn't place it right away. It came from that other life, from that time before the Darkness, when as a Jedi he had fought for what was right. When he had felt the glow of satisfaction but also the weary resignation that came from serving the Force, even when it required death to balance out life.

And then he remembered, and gave himself over to it, whole again as he had not been – didn't know he hadn't been – since those days.

"Are you okay?" he finally managed.

"Yeah," Sabe murmured. She powered down the saber and was left staring at the lifeless eyes of an Imperial officer looking back at her. "That was quite the adventure."

"Glad you had fun."

"I did." She rolled over on to her back, away from the staring eyes and sighed. "Here, I think this is yours."

He smiled as she rested the familiar weight of his lightsaber on his chest. "Thanks for finding it."

"No problem. Think you could talk the Council into issuing one of these to a non-Jedi? I'd love one of my own."

Anakin chuckled. "With the way you were wielding mine just now, I think you've probably earned one of your own."

The moment of much-needed levity passed. They helped each other to their feet and took stock of their injuries. Nothing major. Outside, they could still hear the troopers, but without higher access, they would never get the blast door open. The control room was theirs, meaning the 

station was theirs, meaning they had won. Now the real work – getting the troopers to stand down, rounding up the scientists, and gathering intel – began.

"I'll contact Tash and get this situation under control." Sabe moved to the computer terminals and started looking over the instruments. "You see if you can find a hot-water heater around here. I desperately need some tea."

"Right," Anakin replied, but stood staring down at the lifeless form of a man he realized now that he may have hated but never really knew.

Was he right? Would the Empire continue on regardless of all their efforts?

Well, time to see to that.

* * *

Yeah! Glad to have finally gotten this post written – I had problems with the time parallel between Anakin/Sabe and Obi-wan/Padme, so this post was written in parts and then pieced together. There was supposed to be more (I meant for you to find out if the twins are alive in this post) but the time just doesn't line up, so I have to go figure out how to work it out in the next post.

Let me know what you thought – I am very eager for reviews this time around.

Caslia


	56. The End of the Beginning: Chapter 1

_**A HUGE THANK YOU**_ to all of you! After that last chapter, there was a huge influx of readers adding this fic to their Favorite Story category and signing up for Story Alerts for when I posted again. Not to mention an incredible increase in the number of hits. So thank you to everyone for reading! You guys have totally made my day! And of course, much love to those who took the time to write replies as well.

ObiBettina7, there was supposed to be more Obi-wan in that chapter, but like I said, the time sequencing didn't match up. So as a result, there is a lot of Obi-wan in this last chapter and only two scenes with Anakin. It's all just wrap-up mostly, but a surprise for our favorite Jedi Master thrown in.

(On a side note, for people who have signed up for Alerts on RotL, I'm so sorry if you got a thousand or so e-mails the other day telling you updates had been made. I was going through the earlier chapters, using some of the new tools available to reinsert scene breaks, which requires me to replace chapters. No chapters were actually replaced – just a few changes were made. Oh, except in #14 (Chapter 2 of The Return Home) in which I discovered I'd left off the scene where Padme joins Anakin on his trip – had posted it on another site but not on , so if anyone is interested, it's there.)

That's enough from me.

* * *

Chapter Ten:

_The End of the Beginning_

Five Years After _Rebirth of the Light_

* * *

They didn't make it to the crevice, even with Threepio remaining behind.

Explosions rocked the mountain ranges and the very ground quivered under their feet. The air became thick with the blue dust, choking the three as they ran, searching in the darkness for that sliver of light that promised escape from the tunnel. Of course, that would take them out into the open crevice, with the threat of falling rocks or being targeted by overflying enemy fighters. But they couldn't just stay put either.

Obi-wan felt his throat tighten as they ran, not with panic or fear, but something from the very depths of his soul, something that had leaked into the marrow of his bones. He tried to concentrate on getting out of the tunnel, or not thinking beyond the moment, but still it pulled at him, dragging him back to that vision.

In the shadows of the passageway, he saw again the _Falcon_ careen into the mountain, saw the hull invert from the impact and fire rise up from the ship's belly.

Logic told him the twins were safe within the caves, in the care of the Blue Dust clan. But something akin to parental instincts, horned after years of caring for young charges, told him otherwise. Obi-wan _knew_ that Luke and Leia were on the _Falcon_, the hows and whys of it irrelevant. They were so much like their father, like their mother, even at so young an age – too young! His mind screamed, too young to have been brought along on this journey! – that there was no other place they could be.

"Force protect them," he rasped under his breath.

"Luke and Leia?" Padme gasped beside him, stumbling as the entire mountain around them shook.

"They're fine."

"No worries, Milady!" Han, running just behind them, had to shout to be heard over the thunder. "Ain't no one you want watching your kids in a time like this other than a Wookie. Except maybe a Jedi." He offered Kenobi a lopsided grin, but the boy's eyes carried a weight in them similar to his own.

Entire parts of the tunnel were coming loose now, falling from above, the walls crumbling on either side. The Tie's torpedoes were dull thuds above, but their impact rocked the mountains with a deafening bellow. Now they were not only running in the dark with only the aid of a glow rod, but the very earth had become a nightmarish obstacle course.

Over the rush of blood in his ears, Obi-wan could hear the Force screaming at him. He had been ignoring it, fearing what it would tell him, fearing the worst news. Now it cancelled out his very thoughts, demanding attention as the very roof above them crumbled under the duress of the Imperial bombardment.

Padme reached behind her and grabbed Han, pulling him to her. They collapsed together on the ground, Padme shielding the boy as much as she could with her body. Obi-wan knelt over them, covering both their heads entirely, for what little it could do, and turned his full power towards protecting them from the falling rocks.

The world became a whorl of thunderous sound and choking dust, deafening all thoughts and sensation. All the bits and pieces of the universe seemed to be pulling themselves apart in a single instant that somehow also managed to last forever.

When it finally calmed, the pulse of torpedoes moving away farther down the range, they remained huddled together, reclaiming their identities separate from the madness.

"Is-is it over?" Han finally managed.

"For now." Coughing up dust, every inch of his smeared with dirt, Obi-wan raised up and took a shuddering breath. "Padme?"

"I'm-I'm alright, I think. Nothing broken." With shaking hands, she reached out to Han and brushed his hair out of his face, leaving smudge marks. "Sweetheart? Are you okay?"

At her touch, his bottom lip trembled, but he nodded fiercely.

Padme glanced around them at the pile of dirt and boulders. Already the blue dust was settling over everything. But the area around them was mostly clear. She turned questioning eyes on her Jedi Master and found him looking up.

"Look."

Where a large portion of the tunnel ceiling had caved in, light shown through. They had managed to run far enough before the bombardment to be somewhere near the surface, probably in the foothill of the mountain they had just been under. There was still all that rock, hanging over their heads.

"Come on, come on," Obi-wan barked, grabbing them both and practically throwing them in the direction of the opening. "We've got to get out of here before the rest of the tunnel gives." They scrambled around the debris, wary of the structural integrity of the roof above them. With youthful ease, Han used the fallen rocks that had once made up the tunnel to shimmy up and through the cave-in.

"You next," the Jedi instructed, but Padme shook her head.

"My shoulder. I can't-"

She didn't get another word out, as Obi-wan again scooped her up into his arms, and with only two steps and the aid of the Force, bounded up the wall and out into the clear open sky.

The world outside the tunnel was bleak. The Imperial bombardment had done its work, and all along the mountain ranges, clouds of dirt and rock showered down, as though the hills were exploding. Their innards rained down into the gullies, or the winds picked it up, swirled it around so that the sky took on a grayish hue.

In the direction of their landing pad, fires burned.

Off in the distance, they could see the receding black dots that marked the Ties.

They huddled together, staring, looking ragged and tired. In the hazy sunlight, their clothes and hair glowed softly from the blue dust covering them. The wind tugged at them lightly, but still Padme shivered at its touch.

"Obi-wan," she murmured, "can you feel…?"

The Jedi Master clenched his jaw and continued to stare off at the horizon. With a gentle firmness, he took her hand in one of his.

"We head for the caves where the clan lives." He replied, not looking at her.

"Yeah, great plan," Han muttered, scrubbing at his face with a dirt-ridden sleeve. "And just what are we going to do when we get there? We got Imps in the air, Imps on the ground, probably got Imps hanging over us in space, which means no escape even if they _didn't_ bomb the hell out of the _Falcon_. We got no resources, no way to call for help, no way to get off planet, and I don't exactly think the natives are up to taking on Imperial forces all by their lonesome, even _with_ a Jedi playing for their team. So basically, the mission has gone to space-dust and we're all out of options."

"We're never out of options," Padme replied confidently, squeezing Obi-wan's hand in hers. "We do as Obi-wan suggested. We head for the caves. We regroup, and trust in the Force." And we find my children, she silently added, knowing it didn't need to be said aloud. They were all thinking it.

"It's going to be a hell of a walk," the boy replied, not looking the least bit reassured by her optimism. "What with you and your injury, and the very mountains practically coming down around our heads, _and_ under our feet."

"All the more reason to get moving," Obi-wan said, effectively ending the conversation.

He could feel the lights that marked lives in the Force going out all around him. Try as he might, there were two in particular that he's couldn't find.

* * *

"All troops stand down. This is order number twelve-oh-thirty-three. I repeat, all troops stand down in accordance with order number twelve-oh-thirty-three. One-two-zero-three-three. Stand down. This station is now under new management."

Cast in the glow of the numerous light of the control panels, Sabe spoke determinedly into a comm. unit, keeping an eye out for any immediate signs of danger marked by the flash of alarms. Taking the control room meant victory only if the Imperials acknowledged themselves beat and didn't try to mount a defensive. She had hopes that, despite the high level of security this station was no doubt filed under, the troopers would be willing to give it up without further bloodshed.

"Well?"

Anakin was bracing himself against the blast doors through which she had come running earlier, pressed against it as if actually listening for sounds of surrender. He had told her he thought the troopers were all clones, and therefore conditioned to obey orders, but had insisted on reading their reactions through the Force before taking any risks.

"I think they're buying it. They seem a little confused, which is understandable, considering that not five minutes ago, they were chasing hostiles through the corridors. But overall, I think they're grateful to have received orders, after having been left to just stand around out there."

"Great. A lucky break at last."

Anakin groaned. "Sabe, please. You're going to jinx it."

She laughed and slammed her hand down on the door controls on the panel. The blast doors slid open without a complaint, revealing the squadron of troopers that had very nearly been responsible for her death. They were a mere handful, fewer than they had seemed in the midst of pursuit. At the sight that greeted them in the control room, the troopers started to raise their guns.

"Tsk, tsk," Anakin remarked playfully, raising a hand. "That's not very nice. Didn't you hear the order? You're to stand down."

The troopers hesitated, a few even glancing at their companions. Anakin took that as a sign he had been right about their breeding. None of them were wearing anything marking rank. "Who is the highest rank among you?"

After another hesitation, a trooper at the front of the small group lowered his blaster and stepped forward. The voice that issued from out of the vocorder was immediately familiar, and Anakin felt a brief nostalgia for the days of the Clone Wars, and the clones with which he had made friends.

"That would be me, sir."

"Your rank?"

"Captain, sir."

"Captain?" Anakin was taken aback. "Are there no more senior officers among you?"

"There were, sir. But conditions beyond our control have limited our forces."

"Conditions?" Sabe stepped forward now as well, seeing the other troopers had lowered their blasters. "Explain, Captain."

The Imperial hesitated a moment more, then reached up and removed his helmet. The face that stared back at them was familiar, the face of every clone they had ever known, except for the changes the man had undergone. The clean-shaven, crew-cut look enforced among the troopers allowed for every wrinkle to be seen, every age spot the man had acquired. It suddenly made sense to Sabe how she had so easily out-run her hunters, their strong reliance on battle droids. The once-young men created from the genetic material of Jango Fett, and spurred into maturity through accelerated growth hormones, had aged into grizzled veterans.

"Many of our number gave into age," the captain explained. "Others faced health concernes, and the station couldn't provide for them. A handful, shamefully, became dissatisfied with our duty, and sought to end their tour before receiving termination papers." For a moment, the trooper linked eyes with Anakin, and the Jedi saw something he would have never expected in a clone's eyes. "We've been here a very long time, sir."

For the second time in the last few minutes, Anakin found himself sympathizing and feeling a wash of pity for men who only a moment ago he had been combative with. Would it be like this with other Imperials he came across, other individuals he had once envisioned as enemies? Was the entire galaxy like this, so very weary of conflict, as weary as he was?

If so, then Anakin was infinitely grateful. It would make everything so much easier, both in the taking control of this station and in refusing the fractured bits of this galaxy.

"Then I have some good news for you, captain. You and your men are soon to be relieved of duty."

The captain cast a glance in the direction of Tarkin's body, which Anakin had left lying just off to the side.

"Nothing like that, captain," Sabe hurried to reassure the man. "I am Commander Ulin, and am now in charge of this station. The moff was found to be acting against the wishes of the people of the Empire and was executed. We are here to rectify the situation."

No wonder Obi-wan was in love with this woman. She executed his point-of-view theory flawlessly.

The Imperial troopers seemed to take this quite well, a number of them even snapping to attention. The chain of command, which Tarkin had allegedly broken, was the equivalent to a religion for these men, and the need to reinstate order was what they had been bred for.

The captain was one among them who had snapped to attention, purpose shining in his eyes. "Your orders, Commander?"

Sabe couldn't resist herself. She shot a smug look Anakin's way. He glowered. Wasn't he _ever_ going to get to be in command of anything ever again? _Be careful what you wish for_, he reminded himself. Still, her smugness rankled.

"Gather your men, inform them of the change of command. Then, I need you to round up the entire crew of this station, no matter their occupation. I have a particular interest in the technicians, the men who helped built it. If they come willingly, do not harm them. If they resist, take precautions to ensure their cooperation. We want them _alive_, Captain." She stressed the last bit. They may be under her command now, but Sabe remembered all too well the infamous Order Sixty-Six that had turned the clone troops on the Jedi. If these soldiers could turn on their allies like that, there was no reason to doubt the extremes to which they might go to make the station's crew cooperate.

"Yes, Commander."

"Bring them to Hanger 85, where the passenger shuttles are docked. You are to get all personnel aboard and prepare for departure. Understood?"

"Yes, Commander." He hesitated. "Permission to speak, Commander?"

"Granted."

"Would I be correct in assuming personnel will not be allowed to return to the station?"

"You would be correct, yes."

"Permission to give personnel time to gather personal belongings, assuming they cooperate?"

The two rebels exchanged a glance.

It seemed like such a small kindness to allow that sort of thing. But if any of the crew figured out that they were being rounded up because rebels had taken control of the station, or one among them was an Imperial agent, they might very well use the opportunity to do some damage.

Sabe quirked an eyebrow, as if to say, "could you use the Force to monitor for that situation?" Or maybe it was a "what do you think?" Anakin wasn't quite sure, and just shrugged in return. If a threat arose, they would handle it.

"The station is almost the size a moon. It could take time to round everyone up. Days, even. No reason to rush if it's going to take time anyway."

"Agree. You have a window of three days," Sabe told the captain. "If a cooperative individual can obtain their personal items and get to the hanger in time for boarding, then they may do so. However, I want you to stress that if they cannot make that time, or there are any attempt to cause trouble, there will be consequences."

The trooper replaced his helmet before smartly saluting. "Understood, ma'am."

"Good. Dismissed."

"Wait."

Already halfway through the door, the trooper spun on his heel. "Sir?"

Anakin ignored Sabe's inquisitive look. "Do you have a crematorium on board?"

"Yes, sir."

He motioned to the crumpled form of the former station commander. "Have two of your men take the Moff's body and dispose of it. There is little time for ceremony, and perhaps no call for it if there was, but we cannot simply leave him here. Have it seen to, please."

The captain nodded tersely before waving forward two of his brethren. They stepped into the control room and, despite their age, lifted the corpse without too much effort.

Anakin watched silently as they bore the body of Tarkin away.

The captain saluted a final time and disappeared after his men into the hallway. The control room doors slid shut behind them.

Sabe eyed her partner as he turned back to the controls.

"You realize that body will be space dust in a matter of hours anyway, whether through cremation or when we blow this station."

"I know." He replied solemnly, examining the holographic map.

Sabe offered a knowing smile.

Anakin glanced at her from the corner of his eye before going back to staring at the map with a heavy sigh. "I killed a lot of officers when I was Supreme Commander of the Imperial military, Sabe. Many of them whom didn't deserve it, who simply got in my way or were less than that 100% efficient at their jobs. But that's what they were, just people, doing their jobs, like those troopers. And I should have shown them more respect. Tarkin may have been a ruthless, calculating and ultimately self-serving individual who didn't care about concepts of duty and honor when it came to serving. And he may not deserve a respectful end, but it would be dishonorable of _me_ to leave his body here. We must treat our enemies with respect, _especially_ when we are the victorious."

He noticed Sabe just continued to smile. "What?"

"_There_ is the Anakin Skywalker I remember from the Clone Wars."

Anakin managed to both roll his eyes and look sheepish. "Don't we have some work to be doing?"

"You were the one who was being all self-reflective and philosophizing on morality."

"Maybe I should check in with _Strike_ now."

"Maybe you should," Sabe laughed. "We can't have them taking out chunks of the _Death Star_ while we're still in it. You got that update on our map ready?" Anakin plugged her datapad into the side of the panel and downloaded the necessary information before handing it back to her. "Great. I'll go make sure the crews get on the ships okay and no one gets any ideas about attempting any counterinsurgency. You stay here, get in contact with Tash, let him know the mission is nearing completion. Then put those legendary mechanical skills to work and figure out a way to blow this thing remotely."

"Yes, Commander, ma'am."

Sabe pointed a warning finger at him after palming the door.

When the doors had slid shut behind her, Anakin released a deep breath, feeling his stress being released into the Force. This had all been so much easier than he had thought it would be. Well, if he didn't count the harrowing trip through the Maw, the loss of squadron mates to black holes, the being chased and fired on battle droids, the near-loss of his lightsaber and the reunion with Tarkin. Still, past experience told him it could have been far worse.

And the strange thing was, he had felt confident through almost all of it. Not confident they would succeed, because there was always the chance, as there had been on every mission he had ever gone on, that this time he would be one of the ones not going home. But he had been confident in himself, in his reliance on the Force. There had been that terrible flight through the black holes, when he had felt the Darkness tugging at him. When he had been ready to use it to save Tash and Sabe.

But not a moment since seeing the _Death Star_ had he felt that pull inside himself. Not when facing death with Sabe, and not when facing down Tarkin. Because this was something bigger than himself, something more important than his own fears and weaknesses. Destroying the _Death Star_ meant protecting billions of planets, countless number of lives.

Maybe this had been his trial. Maybe this was the Force's way of telling him he was ready. That he no longer needed to lean on his wife or brother or children to find that connection to the Light. That it was inside him, ready to serve that purpose again.

Anakin laughed quietly to himself. He had been so excited about coming on this mission, till the reality of it had sunk in when Sabe told him about the station. And now, having completed that mission, having succeeded, he felt that contentment of purpose fill him. He could almost hear Master Yoda's voice, instructing an eager padawan "Adventure? Excitement? Heroism? A Jedi craves not these things!"

"Ah well," he sighed, "Being the perfect Jedi is overrated." He flipped a few switches till he found the right channel and waited for the static to settle before speaking into the comm. unit. "This is Strike Sixteen, calling in. _Strike_ squadron, do you copy? This is Anakin Skywalker on board the station, let me hear you."

For a long moment, there was nothing but channel static. He glanced anxiously out the viewport, looking for sign of the rebel ships.

The battle had subsided while he and Sabe were dealing with the troopers, so there were no bright explosions to mark the tiny fighter ships. From this view, there was nothing but the darkness of the black holes before him.

Then the comm. crackled. "Why? You finally get tired of the sound of your own voice?"

"Tash!"

"Hey there, Skywalker. Strike Two, checking in. What's our status?"

"We've taken the control station and ordered a stand-down of all systems and personnel. So far, everybody has complied. At present, we're working on evacuation of the crew, and preparation for self-destruct. How are things looking on your end?"

There was a slight pause. "We lost Seven and Four." Anakin felt his heart sink into his gut. That totaled four out of the sixteen that first set off from _Home One_.

"And the Imperials?"

"Suffered far heavier losses. Were just about to take out the last of 'em when they peeled off and headed back to the station. I'm assuming that was in response to your orders. I'll keep an eye out anyway." The comm. rattled with the pilot's chuckle. "Well, maybe not. I need that one to concentrate on flying."

"Excuse me, Jedi Skywalker?"

Anakin felt his sense of relief continue to grow, first with Tash's voice and now his wingman's, sounding unharmed and business-minded as ever.

"Go ahead, Piett."

"Sir, systems are showing we're low on fuel. There is still the trip back to make. Would it be ill-advised at this point for the squadron to land in an available hanger and refuel?"

Points to Piett for practicality. Anakin brought up the holographic map of the station again and focused in on the hangers. It showed the Ties had landed, and he hoped some of the troopers were there filling them in on events. He would call Sabe just in case. In the meantime, he didn't see a reason the squadron couldn't land in a separate hanger, away from both personnel passenger ships and the enemy fighters. The station was certainly big enough to house them all.

"We've certainly got the time for it. Permission to dock, _Strike_ squadron."

He gave them the coordinates and in a matter of minutes, the X-wings were docked and refueling. A quick check-in with Artoo confirmed the little droid was a step ahead of them all, and quite smug about it. He apparently seemed to think _he_ had somehow saved the day.

After that, there was only the remote self-destruct to worry about, and Anakin busied himself in the quiet of the control room, half-wedged up underneath one of the panels. Though he normally would have enjoyed the chance to work with electronics again, there was something about being in this room that made him hurry.

With the last cable snapped in place, he climbed out from under the panel and made to leave. But, the Force called out to him, and Anakin hesitated, trying to determine the origin of these strange feelings. There was something here, something about this place the Force wanted him to know. He walked to the viewport and stared out, taking in the massive view of nothing.

It wasn't that a man had just died here, or that he was more or less alone in the darkness. Not even the lack of stars outside the viewport really bothered him. It was the sense of it, the feel, the _familiarity_.

He had been here before, in another life, another time. Another reality that no longer existed. He had stood in this room, cloaked in all his Darkness, and stared out through red-tinged visors as this abomination had been put to use. And he hadn't cared. Had done nothing to stop it.

That was why the visions had come to him. He had dreamed of a planet being destroyed, of voices screaming his name as they died. To bring him here, to ensure that moment faded away forever.

How many more moments like this would there be? How many other times would he encounter places and people from that other life, and actually be able to sense it? Perhaps if Qui-gon had never told him about that other existence, he might have gone on unaware of it, thinking it nothing more than a peculiar anomaly in the Force. But at the same time, Anakin was grateful for it. Grateful to know the distance between that life and this one. To know he would never, in _this_ reality, stand on the platform of the _Death Star_ and see a world vanish in a blast of space dust.

So then, this was how it would be. The Darkness would always be whispering inside him, and there would be more moments in which that other life would find some small purchase in this one.

"I think I can handle that." The light inside him strengthened at the words, the Force seeming to pulse around him. "I can handle that now."

* * *

The winds carrying the dust and debris from the attack finally settled over the mountains. The sky would remain ash-ridden for some time, but for the moment, it seemed as if the entire planet had collapsed into weary slumber. Nothing moved on any of the foothills, the ranges had ceased their groans of pointless protest. In the sky, no fighters could be seen.

And in the grasslands, bodies lay still, in piled masses where they had fallen, some scattered about, twisted in odd shapes. A few small fires still burned.

On the curve of the last foothill before the ground gave way to the battleground, the three rebels were met with one of the remaining warriors of the clan. It had taken a great deal more time to return to the site than it had going the other way – boulders and blocked passages that hindered them at every step. They looked as ragged as the native.

He gave them water, and motioned for them to follow him. Other than that, communication was out of the question, without Threepio to translate.

"Obi-wan?"

"'I'm sorry, Padme. I don't know." The Jedi sighed, trudging after the warrior. They were all tired, and hungry, and weighed down with fear, but Padme's worry made her step quick while his seemed to leave him scuffling in the dirt. "There's just been so much death here. So many presences in the Force flickering out. It's hard to tell."

"But it's Luke and Leia! My children! Your niece and nephew! You've felt their presences almost every moment of their lives! Shouldn't you be able to feel _something_?!"

Obi-wan stretched out again, as he had been doing countless times in the last few hours. He felt so weary, so disheartened. The Force was like a piece of cloth worn thin, and he feared tearing it further. Even Padme and Han's presence seemed misty, though they were feet from him.

"I would have felt it." He said at last. "I would have felt it if they had – I would have known. Instantly, unquestionably. The silence I hear now is because the planet is suffering, so many people are in pain or dead from the attack. When that feeling passes, I'll be able to sense them."

"You think he's leading us to the _Falcon_?" Han asked, glancing at the warrior, who was leading them back into the mountains.

"More likely to a safe place, a cave perhaps, where the rest of the clan has gathered. It's unlikely he was out looking for us, as Nantook said they would not get involved. He's probably was just sent out to keep an eye out for more Ties. But the clan is the best place to be now. That is where the twins will be."

It did turn out to be a cave, though it was nothing like the large space Obi-wan had imagined. They only went a little ways up the face of the mountain, not far from where they had first met the clan, and then ducked inside an alcove in the side of the rock. It would have been barely big enough to hold the _Falcon_, and at first, he didn't understand why they had taken refuge in such an unprotected place. Surely there were spaces farther in, like the cave had that had held the Jedi artifacts in the other mountain, where they could retreat to.

But the sight of so many wounded explained why the clan had chosen not to venture further in. Many needed to stay right where they were while others saw to their care. Many had died where they lay. There was the twitter of their language and the crying of those in pain, the almost-forgotten stench of blood and battle, and for a long moment, the three of them were lost in the mess.

Then a familiar roar was heard over the crowd.

"Chewie!"

Han broke through the crowd, racing towards the back of the small cave where a massive figure could be seen towering over the humans. He made it halfway across before another figure brushed past him.

"Chewbacca! Do you have them?" Padme cried, barely avoiding stepping on those who lay injured. She blew past the young pilot and dodged those who did not move out of the way in time. "Luke? Leia?!"

"Mama!"

The entire weight of the galaxy seemed to fall off her shoulders at the sound of that single, most beautiful voice. It wouldn't be enough until she could see them, hold them, smell them, wipe the tears from her babies' eyes and tell them she would never, never, _never_ put them in danger like that again. How foolish she had been to bring them, to _leave_ them. What had she been thinking to bring two six-year-olds along, whether she had known the Imperials would be here or not?

All self-admonishments fell silent as Padme forced her way through the last of the crowd.

Chewie was there waiting for her. His fur was singed in some placed, matted and even completely torn out in others. He looked as though he had been through the worst, and she feared as much as she craved the sight of her children.

But they were there. The Wookie had a twin tucked under each arm, their feet dangling in the air. And they were unharmed. The worst Padme could see before she pulled them both into her embrace was a little bruising and a few tears in their clothing.

She cried, and held them.

Chewbacca gave a whoop and grabbed Solo as he came out of the crowd, barely a step behind the former senator. The boy found himself lifted up off the ground and instantly crushed.

"Yeah, okay," he choked out. If there was wetness in the corner of his eyes, he swore it was from the way his co-pilot and guardian seemed intent on squeezing all the liquid from his body. "Okay, Chewie, okay. I'm glad you didn't get blow up into a great pile of burned fur either. Okay, buddy, you gotta let me breathe."

The reunion was complete with Obi-wan appeared from the crowd. He let out a breath as he saw the twins in their mother's arms. They were a mixture of desperately relieved to be there, and sweetly trying to reassure her that they were both fine. All the air seemed to rush out of his body then, at the sight of them blessedly, beautifully alive. Before he knew it, Obi-wan found himself on the ground as well, elbows resting on his knees, head in his hands, just trying to breathe. The sense of relief was incredible, drowning out the noisiness of the cave.

Then there was a warm little body against his as Leia wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her head in the crook of his shoulder.

Looking up, he found Han had been released from Chewie's grasp, only to find Luke wrapped around him, glad to have his friend back. Padme still knelt, watching her son. She turned to the Jedi and smiled, tears still glistening in her eyes. Her children were unharmed.

Obi-wan buried his face in Leia's soft hair then, and allowed himself to cry for joy.

* * *

When Padme was fully reassured that both her children were relatively unharmed, she rolled up what was left of her sleeves, gathered her small group, and set them to work.

There was little they could do to communicate with the natives, what with Threepio still in the caves. (Luke made it very clear he was upset about that, and both Padme and Obi-wan had to admit that they now felt guilty about having to leave him. He was a nosy, prissy droid, but he was family.) But minor communication was available through hand signs and expressions. The twins were sent to help the other children fetch water from further inside the mountain. Han went along, though by the clan's standards he was an adult, but the boy had promised Padme he would not leave the twins unsupervised.

Chewie had taken something of a beating. It turned out that as the _Falcon_ had lost all flight capabilities and veered into the side of a mountain, he had grabbed the children, and wrapped them all in the restraining harness of the massive co-pilot's seat. Then with them clinging face-first against his chest, Chewie had wrapped his arms around them and acted as a shield against the ships breaking apart around them.

When it had settled, tilted on its side in a gully, he had used the straps from his seat to tie them to his back and front, as a Wookie did with its own cubs while climbing trees, and clawed his way out, then up a mountain.

Though he had feared the ship would implode, the faithful ship lay groaning where she had fallen, allowing for them to escape without further harm.

Despite this series of heroics and the resulting injuries, the Wookie insisted on taking up sentry duty at the mouth of the cave.

Padme, now that her basic worry had been seen to, turned her full attention on the wounded. One moment she was the harried mother, fearful of her children's fate, the next she was the queen who had withstood the invasion of her planet. She wrapped bandages, cleaned wounds, and helped any way she could. Most of the life-saving work had been done while she and the others were make their way back through the ravines, but there was plenty of the sort of daily care needed for many of injured.

Obi-wan went from patient to patient, doing what he could to ease their suffering with the Force. He was no great healer, and considering how drained he felt, it would have done no good to attempt much of anything. The least he could do was calm the frightened and reassure the dying.

And worry.

When his fears for the twins had passed, another came creeping in. How long had it been now since he had heard from Anakin? A week? Two? Surely more than even that. How long since he had seen Sabe, since that stupid fight they had had at that dinner?

He couldn't feel them, couldn't sense if they were alright or not. Usually he had some sense of Anakin in the back of his mind, could feel his presence pulsing. Even as Vader, his brother had been with him in some small, distant way, a dark sense of foreboding that Kenobi had always carried with him. Since they had reestablished their bond some four years ago, Obi-wan had _always_ been able to have at least a vague sense of whether his friend was well or not.

But everything seemed to have come so unraveled. The attacked had torn more than the landscape, it had ripped at the fabric of the Force with its destruction.

He worried for their safety, chastised himself over their last conversation. When would he ever learn? If Sabe were to show up right now, he would say yes. Yes to it all. Yes to a life together, yes to the possibility of children of their own. He would demand Anakin promise never to go off on a mission again without him. They _belonged_ together. They were a _team_. Qui-gon had told him as much not a few hours before. His old master had always known – that was why he had insisted his awkward apprentice train the former slave boy in the first place.

_Be calm_, he told himself. _Worrying will not bring them back to you faster. It will not resolve anything. Focus on what you can do in the here and now._ He could only hope his love and brother had been successful on whatever mission it was they had gone off on together.

Just as these reassurances were gaining ground and Obi-wan began to feel a sense of calm, a distant whine filled the air.

The cave fell silent as the clan strained to hear.

"More Ties?" Padme whispered as she crept over to the Jedi.

"No, the engine doesn't sound right. Too low in pitch."

The sound grew louder, closer. Then everyone jumped, as a roar ripped through the cave. Chewbacca stood at the entrance, waving his arms at the sky and howling like mad.

"Chewie!" Padme shouted, fear ripping through her. "Be quiet!"

The Wookie turned to her and hollered again. He pointed up in the direction the ships were coming from, then dashed out of the cave.

"Oh, dear." Obi-wan grabbed his lightsaber and rushed out after the co-pilot. Whatever new danger was about to face them, he couldn't let the Wookie face it alone. But the Force wasn't screaming danger at him – he was sure he would have heard that. And the engines were a different type than those used by Tie fighters.

He emerged from the shallow cave into the hazy light to find Chewbacca had run out into open space, still waving his arms.

"Look."

Padme had appeared at his side, blaster at the ready, a small group of warriors at her heels. They all paused and looked up where she was pointing.

Out of the clouds came the shape of fighters, and not a few passenger vessels. There was an Imperial shuttle among them, but it seemed out of place next to the fighters from the Republic and former smuggling vessels.

A snub fighter set down not far from where Chewie was. It kicked up dust so that everyone had to shield their eyes. When the cloud had passed, the cockpit opened and a sturdy figure descended. The pilot paused, looked around, and then headed towards the cave entrance.

"Hold your fire," Obi-wan instructed, waiting. Sensing he was on guard but not defensive, the warriors raised their weapons but did not advance.

Nearly to them, the figure removed the flight helmet, and they were greeted with a warm, familiar face.

"You had us worried. We saw the wreckage of a ship registered with the Alliance and thought you might have been on it."

Obi-wan had never been so pleased to see a politician.

Padme stepped forward to greet him. "Bail! You're late, but if you have medical supplies aboard those ships, I'll forgive you."

Organa grinned. "Medical supplies? You can have all you want. The _Frigate_ is parked where that Star Destroyer used to be. The Rebellion is on the move. Tell your friends there to lower their weapons, because we're here to help."

* * *

I know, I know, I took forever in between posts. But at least now you know the twins are alive! (Okay, we all knew that – how could I write it otherwise?)

Happy College Exam Time,

Caslia


	57. The End of the Beginning: Chapter 2

I love this new traffic option we have on our author accounts – it tells me the different countries my readers are in, which is really cool to know I've got readers all over. Just makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. Also, I traveled around a lot as a kid, and have actually lived in some of these places. So I have to say to my one Czech reader: Dobry den! Jak se máte? And to my three French readers: Salute, mes amies! Ça va? And to my one reader all the way over in Taiwan: 你好 吗? 你喜欢看我的小说吗?

A note about the first scene: In this fic, I've focused mainly on character relationship, but as this last chapter is wrap-up, this needed to be included to hint at the future of the Rebellion. The Rebellion gets portrayed in the movies as a heroic and righteous force, and Empire as the bad guys because they're led by the Sith. I don't buy that all Imps are bad and all Rebels/Jedi are good, because, let's face it, a reality without any gray is just obnoxious in its morality. So this scene is meant to touch on, _in brief,_ some serious issues that the Rebel Alliance would have been facing concerning Jedi-rebel relationship, problem of image, and internal conflicts. I've been really pleased with some of the stories that have come out in the last few years dealing with the Imperial perspective, as it allows for discussion of our understanding of terms like "terrorist" vs "freedom fighter," the problem of initiating war (whether for the wrong or right reasons) and other issues that we are now struggling with in the real world. As I said, it's brief, and if it offends you, ask yourself why. I am making no political statement here – these are simply facts about politics and war that need to be taken into consideration. Ethical questions of other natures also managed to find their way into later scenes.

Thanks for the reviews! I am very grateful for all the encouragement, and am grateful for your continued patience. **Genesis**: I know just what you mean about the grammar and spelling mistakes in some fics. Just don't real some of my earlier work; the editing system on this site was different then, so where I wrote pauses (…) they appeared as the abrupt end of a strange sentence. :P I'm too lazy to go back and make the necessary edits.

* * *

Chapter Ten:

_The End of the Beginning_

Five Years After _Rebirth of the Light_

* * *

"Considering taking the Jedi oath, Senator?"

Bail allowed a small smile as he joined the Alliance leaders gathered around the conference table. Once their fighters had determined all Imperial presence had been either fled or been destroyed, the ships carrying non-combat personnel had joined the other vessels in space over the unnamed planet. Mon Mothma had called in over the comm. and requested Organa, having been successful in his mission, rejoin his peers for a conference.

She had been amused when he had told her back at _Home One_ on Thanatia that he insisted on being personally involved in the impromptu rescue mission. He had given a rather rousing speech to the assembled leaders before departing about how _now_ was the time for the Rebellion to make their move. And before long, the rest of the fleet had followed.

They had managed to do quite a bit of damage and gained a lot of ground as a result.

And all of it based on the words of a powerful, if tiny, Jedi Master.

"I find politics to be more to my tastes," he replied, taking a seat. "I will leave the reading of the Force to our friends."

"And how is Master Kenobi and Lady Skywalker?" the translator droid supplied for their Wookie cohort.

"I found them in high spirits, looking only a little worse for wear. They requested medical supplies and treatment for some native inhabitance that had assisted in fighting off Imperial troops. Master Kenobi has also asked for a team to return with him to where they located the Jedi archives. He was quite pleased when I told him a number of the Jedi had come along and would be there to assist him soon."

There was general agreement that this was all good news. No one had been particularly worried when Padme Skywalker and Obi-wan Kenobi had gone missing – given the history of their little group, it was hardly surprising – and they were not really the focus of the Rebellion's recent activity. The disappearance of Lady Skywalker may have been what motivated Organa to approach the Council and demand action, but far more than a simple rescue mission had been achieved.

From Thanatia across the inner sectors of the Outer Rim, the Alliance had been engaged in series of small battles. As the main fleet left what had been their home base for the past few years, their fire power had added to these efforts and other grassroots movements. One by one, they had been taking back systems once in Imperial control. Entire planets had thrown off the yoke of what was slowing becoming seen as a tyrannical system. Some joined to regain control of their planets, other out of a former loyalty to the Republic. Regardless of the reason, their support and resources were greatly appreciated.

Eventually the fleet had arrived at Thanatia, with a large enough force amassed to send the Star Destroyer screaming into hyperspace. They would rest here only for an on-board day cycle before pressing on to the next sector.

At last, the Rebellion was on the move.

"Has there been any word from Agent Ulin, or from Master Skywalker?"

The assembled former senators and Republic generals shared a knowing smile. When Bail had reported to the Council that Anakin Skywalker was not available to join him in rescuing his wayward wife because he was already on a mission, the other leaders had been quite pleased. It had taken time, but the memory of the hero from the Clone Wars had come to replace that of the monstrous Dark Lord of the Sith. None of them had seemed surprised to learn the reckless young man had taken off once again.

"None as of yet," Mon smiled reassuringly, knowing Skywalker's family would be worried. "But we sent our best. We must keep faith in the Force that they will persevere."

"Indeed we must, just as we will continue to push onwards," another Council member added. "You were right in that the time had come to make our move, Organa. We have gained much in the recent weeks. The Empire may still be stronger, and systems within the Inner Rim and Core may continue to support Palpatine's policies and government. But we are better for having faced the confrontations, having tested our mettle."

"It will mean we are now a legitimate threat to the Empire," Bail reminded them. "This is not victory, no matter how much ground we've gained. This is the beginning of war, and all that entails."

"The senator is right," General Dodonna locked his steel gaze with every being in the room one by one. "For us, this is a righteous war. We must remember others will see this as an attempt to destroy the fragile peace achieved in winning the Clone Wars. To some we will be freedom fighters, to others we are terrorists and warmongers. The support of the Jedi, warriors of the Republic, will send conflicting messages. This organization must do all it can to stress that it wants a peaceful resolution to our grievances against the Empire, _not_ more death and destruction."

The others around the council room nodded.

"It is somewhat ironic that the former Chancellor would be the one to give us our greatest advantage," someone added. "Once we release word about the Imperial station, the _Death Star_, surely the citizens will look favorably on policy changes."

"The citizens," Mon agreed. "But we must consider the warlords and the high officials, the Imperial aristocrats and anyone else who rose to power thanks to Palpatine. Once some beings get power, they are very unwilling to relinquish it."

"Isn't that what we have the Jedi for? To go in and take out those who are opposed to justice?"

"That is _not_ what the Jedi are for!" Bail snapped, making some in the room jump. He could see some of the leaders agreed with him. Others – many of them officials from the Republic – looking skeptical. "The old relationship between the Jedi Order and the Republic will not be continued by this organization. They do not serve us, they are not our personal army. They will stand with us only so long as we prove worthy. We must remain true to our pledge to put a stop to the harmful policies of the Empire, with as little bloodshed as possible. Our goal is not to assert our own rule. If that becomes the motivation for the Rebellion, we will lose the support of the Jedi, and of the citizens of this galaxy."

There were mummers of agreement around the room, as well as few silences that suggested this was contested ground.

Looking around the room, Bail gave a sigh. This was the nature of politics – no change in government would ever change that. There would be those who fought for the right reasons, and those who fought for their own. And if they succeeded in this war, there would be some politicians who would go back to serving their own interests as they had during the Republic, just as there would be Imperial politicians who would join those like Bail in trying to make a difference.

As the room continued to fill with discussion, Mon reached down the table and gave his hand a squeeze. As if reading his thoughts, she said, "We will do what we can."

It was not as optimistic statement about their future as he would have liked, but it was an accurate one.

* * *

It took a bit of effort on Padme's part to convince the clan members that these new arrivals weren't threatening. It seemed typical of the Empire to manage with a single encounter to disillusion the natives against future encounters with off-planet outsiders. Fortunately, the clan didn't hold to the rule about first impressions, and eventually allowed the Alliance members to tend their wounded.

Padme stood at the lip of the cave that had served as shelter during the Imperial attack, and warily watched the medics at work. Along the back wall, rebels had been bringing in and stacking crates that contained medical supplies, food, and weapons. There were also basic machinery and building supplies, their presence alerting Padme to an unsettling realization.

The Rebellion had come to this unnamed planet in their new push towards gaining territory against the Empire. The rescue of herself and her family might have happened to be the catalyst, but as far as the Rebel command would see it, that was just a happy happenstance. They had every intention of making use of this unclaimed world for themselves and their cause. As the planet had no centralized, dominant government or authority, the Alliance could easily set up a base here, making use of natural resources without requiring another's permission.

And they wouldn't be leaving, even if they managed to win the war and no longer needed the Blue Dust clan's mountains as a base.

Even knowing the Alliance only had the best intentions, and would use only peaceful means of gaining cooperation from the native populace, with their weapons and advanced technology, Padme couldn't help but feel that the Alliance had become another kind of imperial force, the kind that colonized.

It left her feeling unsettled, and guilty for having brought this to the planet.

"The Imperials would simply have done a worse job of it."

Padme turned, surprised to find herself again in the company of a familiar, if out of place, presence.

"Dr. Brie? Are you here to oversee the medics?"

The Firrerreo woman didn't look like the same medic who had overseen Anakin's surgery two years ago. Her shock of bright cherry-red hair, previously pulled back in a tight bun, had been grown out and braided, her white lab tunic and pants replaced with fatigues.

"I'm afraid I've had to leave that to some of my underlings, though they are all very capable, so your new friends are in good hands. I'm to travel with Master Kenobi and the others to the Jedi caves."

"You've been training, then?"

Shira smiled a bit smugly. "Nothing like a shortage of Jedi healers to make the masters reconsider excluding a potential apprentice, even one as old and weak in the Force as I am. Master Yoda himself has been instructing me. Now I just hope I can hike through these mountain ranges without breaking anything."

The two women laughed. As a Firrerreo humanoid, Shira had the natural ability to heal herself, and was the least likely to come away from this trek injured. Padme would have been grateful for the same skillearlier; her arm still pained her, though thanks to Obi-wan it was mostly healed.

"I feel like we're betraying them," she said after a moment, eyeing again the rising stacks of supplies. "They offered shelter to the Jedi who came here all those years ago, looking for a place to hide away their most precious artifacts. They treated us with respect, if not warmth, when we arrived, and we brought the Empire, and the Alliance, to them."

"Someone would have come eventually. If not us, traders, or smugglers, or explorers. The galaxy is a big enough place that many thousands of planets still haven't been colonized. But eventually, these people would have found themselves facing an outside force wanting their territory and their resources. Isn't it better it was us; that we came to settle without the use of force? What we have to offer in technology and information will enrich their lives and help preserve their culture. Ultimately, this is what is best for them."

_What was best for them._ The conversation reminded Padme of another one like it she and Anakin had had, long before the dark times, before everything had gotten so complicated. When assigned as her protector after a failed assassination attempt, the then-Jedi apprentice and Nabooian senator had spent a lot of time together on her homeworld, and the topic of politics and governance had inevitably come up. Anakin had argued for a form of governance that forced the people into doing the "right" thing, whatever was _best_ for them, regardless of the sacrifices. Little had either of them known he would end up serving a similar government.

She wondered if he would agree with Brie now. She wondered if, maybe given the circumstances, the other woman wasn't right. Maybe these people had a right to advance, to gain independence and security through adaption to modern ways. But there was no way to know which was right, or best. Once, Padme had been so sure she knew, sure that concepts like "freedom" and "democracy" were the end-all. Now, they just seemed like words, their meanings hidden in something deeper she had yet to decipher.

"Will you be coming with us?"

"No," she replied, tearing herself away from the rebel medics helping the clan members, and what that assistance would cost them. "I've had enough adventure for now, and I won't leave my children here unattended. Besides, this is a matter for Jedi."

* * *

"You will be safe?"

"We'll be safe."

"You will contact me if you hear from the others?" Obi-wan looked torn between eagerness to return to the caves with the other Jedi, and his instinct to say behind and guard his family. But it was a full day since the Imperial bombardment, and sweeps of the planet had ensured all enemy forces were either gone or in custody.

"I'll contact you immediately." Padme assured him.

"And you promise not engage in any more dogfights?"

This last request was directed at Luke and Leia. The twins gave their uncle a solemn nod in agreement, then moved in for a hug.

"Well, alright then," Obi-wan sighed, bending down to wrap his arms around them.

"At least, not any time soon," Luke added, smiling.

"That will have to do, I suppose. There's an entire fleet up there, with plenty of squadrons of fighters, so unless the entire Imperial navy suddenly lands on us, I see no reason you'll need to do any piloting in the near future." Obi-wan paused, then glanced into the boy's eyes. "Right?"

Luke's grin only got bigger. "Remember to bring Threepio back with you."

"If I must." The Jedi sighed. "It's a wonder your mother isn't a nervous wreck after all this."

The woman in question gave him a kiss on the cheek before taking her children's hands. "That's only because I have you to shoulder half the burden. You're very good at stress management."

"I'm a Jedi."

"A very special kind of Jedi," his sister-in-law replied. "Ready, you two?"

Instantly the twins began to batter her with questions and comments, mostly demanding that they didn't leave, wanting to go with the Jedi into the mountains to see the cave. But Padme paid only half an ear, smiling again at Obi-wan before going to board a small passenger vessel that would take them back into space.

Han and Chewie were waiting for them at the make-shift landing pad, out in the nearly barren plateau that rested between ranges. The young pilot didn't look very happy.

"Something the matter, Han?"

"Yeah," he muttered, head down as he scuffed his boot in the dirt in the typical teenage sulk. "Word from Command is that they're _real_ _sorry_ about the _Falcon_, but there ain't anything they're willing to do for her. Guess my old girl's shot down her last couple of eyeballs."

"You could still fix it," Leia offered, reaching out and tugging the boy's hand out of his pocket. She clutched it to her chest and stared up at him, doe-eyed. "Luke and I will help you. It's our fault, we borrowed it without asking you. We can get Daddy to help too! He's the best at fixing things! Please don't be sad."

"Aww, sweetheart, don't you worry 'bout me."

Leia looked like she was about to say more, but the roar of engines that had progressively getting louder now drowned out any potential response, and a _Lambda_ class Imperial shuttle approached, a small fighter hovering high overhead. Bail had promised the Skywalkers would have both transport and escort back to the fleet.

As the dusted kicked up into the air from the engines, Leia glanced over and caught her brother's eye. Luke gave her a nod, then turned back to watching the ship land.

After the wings had folded up and the boarding ramp extended, the group made their way to the lounge, where they preceded to get blue dust on all the white upholstery.

"First things first when we get back to our quarters: showers for everyone." Padme abashedly looked around the space. "I hope the pilot will forgive us, considering the situation."

"Nothing to forgive. In fact," Jan Solik replied as she came into the lounge, "let me get some of that on me as well." She opened her arms as the twins gleefully hopped out of their restraints and ran to hug her. She was instantly smeared with blue.

Padme laughed. "It seems to be a day of reuniting with old friends. I thought you would be out with your squadron."

"Heard you needed a lift," Jan replied, shooing the children back to their seats. She nodded in greeting to the others. "Captain Solo, Chewbacca."

Han grunted in acknowledgement.

"Alright, if you're all strapped in, time to leave this rock."

As the shuttle blasted off and flew over the plateau, quickly gaining altitude, Padme watched from the co-pilot's seat as the mountain ranges beneath her turned once again into black lines scarred into the earth.

She wondered what would become of the planet, and whether or not it would be for the better.

* * *

"Oh, thank the Maker! I'm saved! After all these dreary, endless hours alone, I had begun to think I'd been forgotten. I cannot _tell_ you how grateful I am to see you, Master Kenobi!"

The other Jedi stood looking slightly amused, and Obi-wan felt a slight blush spread across his cheeks. He wished for his usual beard, so it wouldn't be so noticeably. Threepio just had a way of making even the most unflappable individual feel overwhelmed.

"That's quite alright, Threepio. I'm glad to see you're safe."

"Safe? Master Kenobi, I am lucky not to be damaged beyond repair! As it is, it will take _months_ to get the grit out of my joints."

Obi-wan took the complaints as a sign none of the droids basic circuitry had come to any harm. While Threepio could at times, such as now, be a source of embarrassment and annoyance, a part of Kenobi was relieved to have returned to the caves to find his prissy companion in one piece.

It had taken several hours to make their way over the peaks and down into the gorge that led to the tunnel, even with the entire party able to use the Force. The bombardment and subsequent quakes had brought down cliff sides, filling the ravine with massive obstacles, and much of the landscape was still unstable. The party, some twenty Jedi all total, had moved cautiously.

Obi-wan had been able to lead them back to where he, Padme and Solo had climbed up out of the collapsed tunnel. Reentering that dark space and digging out the tunnel entrance hadn't been pleasant, but there was little other option. The walk through the darkness, lit by the glimmer of swirling blue dust in the light of their glowrods, had brought back to mind the surreal encounter Obi-wan had had with Qui-gon, and for the first time, he had time to consider what they had talked about.

The future of the Jedi Order belonged to him, and to Anakin. Those had been Qui-gon's words, directed by the Force. But seeing all the eager faces around him, of Master Yoda and Gharlin, of the Knights Ashia, Reckin and Belav returned from Coruscant and others, he felt that they wouldn't be alone.

Now they stood in the cavern, the shelves filled with relics undisturbed by the chaos that had gone on above. And he watched their faces as they took in the sight around them.

"You will be pleased to know I made good use of my time here, Master Kenobi," Threepio continued to yammer, following behind the Jedi in his usual shuffle.

"Thank you, Threepio."

"Need to categorize all of this, we will. Prepare some for shipment, the rest for future storage." Yoda examined the bin of lightsaber parts on a bottom shelf. Some bits were rusted, others broken. He sighed, his ears drooping a little. "And some, sadly for disposal."

"Still," one of the knights whispered, in awe, "this is an incredible find. We should get started inventorying right away."

"Might I be of assistance, Masters?"

"Kenobi," Gharlin muttered over his shoulder as he pulled out a datapad, "would you kindly mind turning your droid off. This is a Jedi matter."

"But, sir!" Threepio exclaimed, managing to sound both offended and eager, "the preparation of a second inventory is not necessary. I will simply make you copies of mine."

The Jedi paused and all eyes turned to the golden droid.

Obi-wan fought to keep his lips from twitching up into a smile. "Go on, Threepio. You have everyone's attention, now."

"Thank you, Master Kenobi. As I was saying, when Master Kenobi and Mistress Padme were forced to abandon me here, I decided the best thing to do was make the most of my time. That way, should anyone return and find I had been destroyed by the cavern falling in, or heavens forbid my power had finally failed, I would have something to show for it."

"We would have been very grateful for your sacrifice."

As usual, the droid didn't sense he was being teased and took Obi-wan comment as sincere. "It's nothing short of my duty, sir. It would have been a pleasure to spend the last of my power cells on the Jedi cause. As it was, I am still holding up quite fine. And, not only have I completed a full inventory of the artifacts, but have managed to also download the entire data off the terminal."

It was an exceptional accomplishment in so short a time, even for a droid.

"Thank you, Threepio," Obi-wan said again, and this time, meant it.

"Oh, you are _quite_ welcome, Master Kenobi. I am so glad I could be of service." He paused, and his head cocked in his way of mimicking human reflection. "Though, I must admit, sir. Not as glad as I am to have been rescued."

Unable to contain it, Obi-wan laughed, and threw an arm around his friend. "Come on, Threepio. Let's let the others get a look around the place, and you can show me the fruit of your labors."

"Of course, Master Kenobi. Actually, I _did_ come across something you might find personally very interesting. It was in some of the newer records, in a separate file. Did you know the Jedi Order used to keep tabs on families that had produced Force sensitive children?"

That caught Obi-wan off guard. The others had moved off into the cavern, examining the shelves, so he walked with Threeio over to the computer terminal. Beside it, the make-shift librarian had filled unused bins with the datapads containing the computer's information. There were more bins than Jedi who had come along to carry them.

He took a seat at the terminal and watched as Threepio searched through them.

"Why would they have done that, do you think?"

"The information contained within the file suggested such records were kept in case the family produced another Force-sensitive child. Some records indicate Jedi who were biological siblings served alongside each other in the Order without knowing of their relationship."

"It's so they would know where to look," Obi-wan realized. "Force-sensitivity can appear in beings whose family has no record of possessing the ability. But it makes sense to know which families naturally produce such children." He felt his heart sink a little at the thought. The records meant they would know where to find new apprentices to train, but it also meant the old Order had planned to seek out these families again and acquire their offspring. It felt a little like they had used these families as breeders to produce Jedi.

It was an uncomfortable thought.

He thought of Anakin, who's Force-abilities were unmatched. If the Order had learned Shmi had produced another child after her marriage to Lars, would they had searched her out, tested the child for Force-potential? Would they have taken it, if the boy or girl had shown that potential, regardless of having already taken Anakin from her?

The answer was undeniably yes.

This was going to complicate matters, Obi-wan realized, at least for him personally. The discussion with the newly formed Council over children had not come to any conclusions, and now to throw this in.

Every time a solution was reached on one issue, another which was even more complicated seemed to arise.

"Ah, here it is!" Threepio broke into his musings, pulling a datapad from one of the stacks. "Files on the last few generations of Jedi, including familial data. Your records are here as well, Master Kenobi. I thought you might like to see them."

With a hand that suddenly shook, Obi-wan accepted the datapad.

* * *

Caslia


	58. The End of the Beginning: Chapter 3

By the Force, I can't believe it. Beloved readers, this is the last chapter of _RotL: The Years That Followed_. But fear not: there is going to be a _To Be Continued_ at the bottom of this post, not a _The End_. That's because there is the fifteen-post epilogue (yes, a bit grand, but I just can't help myself) entitled _RotL: Glimpses of the Future_. (Belatedly, I realize this is a pointless reminder; either you've read the author's notes before and you are aware of the epilogue, or you totally skip over them and I'm just wasting space.) I can't help but write so long an epilogue, because I feel this change in timeline allows for numerous interesting changes in future events. So if you're tired of this story, allow this to be your end, as it has quite the nice finale. If not, then the _To Be Continued_ is for you.

Don't ask why the ship plays such a big part in this post. I got kinda nervous about this being the last post, and in trying to sum everything up, I fell to rambling and had to use the ship as an anchor. Otherwise every scene was nothing but a reflection-fest by one character or another.

As always, thanks for all the replies! **Spartan-1207**: I actually also use traditional characters, but the web program I have only does simplified, which I have never learned, so imagine my dilemma of trying to figure out if I'm even using the right characters or not. :P

Also, if anyone has a better name than "Glimpses of the Future," _please_ suggest it. Because there already _is_ a fic out there with that name that is still a work in progress by another SW author, and I don't want to get the two confused. I want to run with that general theme, because each post will only be a snapshot of future moments. Anything you come up with, just let me know. I will be eternally grateful.

* * *

Chapter Ten:

_The End of the Beginning_

Six Years After _Rebirth of the Light_

* * *

The sight of the Rebel Alliance fleet hovering in space over the planet was magnificent. Not simply because of the size of the fleet, though it had surely grown over the years to rival that of the Imperial navy, and certainly not because it boasted any of the newer models, though occasionally those could be seen in among the hodgepodge.

It was the diversity of ships that made the fleet grand.

There were Old Republic vessels, Imperial shuttles and Tie fighters, Clone Wars combat ships, Jedi starfighters, appropriated Federation ships, vessels used for smuggling, trade, political envoys and more; an entire fleet constructed from every occupation and every region to be found in the galaxy. Ships that couldn't even be categorized, usually only seen on the edges of the Unknown Regions, docked alongside their more familiar counterparts.

The variety of the ships reflected the assortment of beings that had joined the ranks of the Alliance, and swelled it to previously unimaginable proportions. No longer were they disgruntled senators and Clone War veterans, renegade Imperials and Jedi-in-exile. The different factions opposing Imperial tyranny had come together to form a coherent organization that stood for galactic reform.

And Padme had been one of its founders.

It was seven years ago, when the Clone Wars still raged and Palpatine's influence had started to wear thin both the Republic's and Anakin's resolve, that she had gathered with a small group of discontents to talk strategy.

Their plans had not included rebellion, of fleeing Coruscant, or of amassing a fleet like this and threatening war. The handful of politicians and diplomats that had included herself, Bail Organa and Mon Mothma, had discussed means of removing Palpatine from office, of purging the senate of corruption, and calling for an end to the galactic conflict. Seven years ago, Padme would not have imagined herself on board the central command ship of a war fleet, her children having only hours ago been presumed dead from an Imperial bombardment. Though the situation at that time had seemed tense and difficult to negotiate, with hindsight she could see how little she had grasped the situation, and how late their soiree had been.

For all her involvement, the relationship she had maintained with Palpatine, the friendship with Obi-wan that had kept her informed on Jedi matters, the cracks in the foundation had remained hidden. Until the floor underneath her gave way.

She had thought with Anakin's turning that she would die. She had thought she couldn't live with a broken heart.

But there had been things to live for. Her children, whose presence she had only discovered after their father's betrayal. Her friends, Obi-wan and Sabe among others, who refused to let her collapse, but always carried her when the grief and the stress became too much to bear alone. And there had been her ideals, which demanded she do something, _anything_, to fight the oppression she knew a Sith reign would bring.

And Anakin, whom she could not give up on.

He had betrayed her, betrayed the Jedi Order, and the Republic. He had hurt her, emotionally and physically. But she understood the root of his Darkness, the fear of loss and of rejection, and for that reason, Padme could forgive him. She had hoped that if she held out, if she continued to fight and believe, then he might somehow find his way back to her.

And he had.

Those years of twilight, and the endless months of darkness that followed, ended with the birth of her children, and the light had shown through, bathing them all in its healing powers.

From that moment to this, the years had carried them forward, so that Padme found herself here, staring out at a future she would never have envisioned for herself or her family, but was profoundly grateful for.

"You wanted to see me?"

She turned from the sight of the Alliance fleet that drifted outside the viewport, allowing her thoughts to return to the lounge attached to her quarters, and to her present mission. Bail stood waiting, a tray with refreshments in his hands.

"Yes," Padme smiled and waved a hand. "Please, sit."

"Here we are then." The senator poured for them both, passing her a steaming cup of much-welcomed tea. "I see you're no longer a fetching indigo."

Padme laughed. "Being so grateful for a shower reminds me of the Clone Wars."

"You always did seem to come back looking like you'd been in a bantha stampede." Bailed teased, smirking over the rim of his cup. "Where are the little ones? I thought after what nearly happened to them, you'd hardly let them out of your sight any time soon."

"Actually, I'm here on their behalf." Her old friend looked bewildered, and Padme had to reminder herself not everyone's six-year-olds had the kind of presence of mind as her own. Luke and Leia had practically forced her into this meeting. Promises and attempts at delaying had proved pointless. They had their mother's sense of righteousness, and their father's stubbornness to see it through. "I was hoping you might be able to spare a ship."

"Another ship?" Bail stared at her, his tea forgotten. "My dear, didn't you just borrow and _crash_ one of our supply vessels? And where could you possibly be going?" Expression switching from confusion to stern disapproval, Bail shook his head and stood. "Oh no, you don't, Padme! I can't have you running off. Even if I could find a ship for you, I can't tell you where Skywalker has gone. You'll have to wait for his report with the rest of us."

"I'm not concerned about my husband," Padme retorted, not rising from her seat. She paused, frowning in consideration before continuing. "Alright, so I am. But that's not why I'm asking for a ship. I need either a maintenance shuttle, or something with a tractor beam light enough to enter the planet's atmosphere to raise the _Falcon_."

"The _Falcon_? Padme, I hardly see how this is necessary."

"It is _entirely_ necessary, Bail. And I want it done." Or my son and daughter will haunt me with their platitudes and their small faces scrunched with guilt until I see that ship returned to her captain.

"Padme, Urteau is now a base for the Alliance. I'm sure eventually someone will get around to investigating the crash site and redistributing the materials."

So they'd named the planet. Urteau suited it, but she wondered who the rebel leaders had consulted on-planet, or if they'd simply chosen the name themselves.

"I do not _want_ that ship to be _torn apart_ and its parts recycled! I want the whole thing repaired and put back in service! From Chewbacca's report, the damage wasn't so great it couldn't be fixed if given the proper attention. At least send down a service crew to bring it back up here, and allow for Han – Captain Solo – and his crew to repair it in one of our hangers."

Organa stared at the little woman sitting on the couch before him. Somewhere in the conversation, the former queen in Padme had asserted herself, and her voice contained the spark that had made her such a gifted orator and politician during the Republic.

He had found it impossible to deny her anything in those days. Even though his love had waned, with their separate marriages and the passing of time, he still found it hard to resist.

"You are a demanding woman, Padme Skywalker."

With a smile that managed to be both courteous and smug, she rose from her seat. "I am only insistent when I know I am right. And I have learned over the years that it is my belief in what is right that gets me through. Raise the _Falcon_, Bail. Or I won't let you hear the end of it."

* * *

There were few times that Obi-wan missed Anakin's insane piloting skills, but this was certainly one of them.

It seemed to him that the supply ship, of which he was an unexpected passenger, could not travel quickly enough. They had only just left the planet atmosphere behind, and while the fleet loomed large ahead of them, it would still be some time before they docked with the command vessel.

"Would you mind getting us there a little faster?"

If the pilot heard the testiness in the Jedi's request, he chose to ignore it. "Sorry, sir. This is as fast as this baby goes. She's built for transport, not speed."

"Rusting bucket of bolts," Kenobi muttered under his breath.

Despite his usually calm demeanor, Obi-wan started to tap his fingers against his leg, jaw clenched to keep the rest of him from jumping up and simply taking the controls from the tedious pilot.

The ship had been making runs between the fleet and the planet, bringing down the necessary supplies to begin construction of a base. There were usually a number of hours in between landings, and Obi-wan knew he was fortunate that he had arrived in time to catch it on a return flight.

The trip back from the Cavern of Jedi Archives, as they were now calling it, had been long enough without this unwelcome delay. Travel through the gorge alone would have been swift, but there had been the added burden of a powered-down droid strapped onto his back.

But, he had promised Luke he would bring Threepio back. And Obi-wan did his best to keep his promises.

The promise to Qui-gon to train the slave boy his master had rescued had changed the course of Obi-wan's life in a way he never would have imagined.

He seriously doubted he would have come to the point in his life where he was now if not for the years he had spent with Anakin, if not for the bond they had formed, the experiences they had shared, and the things Obi-wan had discovered about himself in the process.

A part of him ached with the knowledge that his brother wasn't waiting for him on _Home One_ alongside his family, with their warmth and their open hearts. If anyone could understand what Obi-wan was going through now, it would be Skywalker. While Obi-wan felt anxious and uncertain, conflicted about the things he had recently learned about the Jedi Order and himself, Anakin would be delighted, would laugh and slap his friend on the back. He would tell Kenobi not to worry about the Archives.

And he would probably be right, Obi-wan admitted with a grudging smile. But still he felt the need to meditate on what he had learned. To talk it through with someone he trusted, someone who he could share his feelings with.

So he had left the other Jedi behind in the cavern, and headed for the fleet, following his little family.

"Approaching _Home One_," the pilot said, breaking into Obi-wan's rampant thoughts. "_Home One_, this is freighter _Pangzi_ requesting permission to dock."

"Hold your position, _Pangzi_," the voice over the comm. crackled. "We have a ship coming in just behind you with a major load. Once they've docked and we've cleared space, you're welcome to come abroad."

"Copy that."

Obi-wan silently groaned at the extended delay. Then he glanced out the viewport as the two ships came around them to enter the hanger and felt his jaw drop.

A maintenance vessel chugged along through space, dragging a busted freighter behind it. The familiar ship limped even while in the grip of the other ship's tractor beam. The hull had taken a terrible beating, the landing gear was nonexistent and in some places damage from enemy fire could be seen in charred and melted metal. Blue streaks marred the hull, where the planet's dust had been mostly wiped off in the push to break atmosphere.

Even in such appalling shape, there was no mistaking the _Millennium Falcon_.

His earlier suddenly anxiousness forgotten, Obi-wan chuckled at the sight. He had no doubt who was behind such an unnecessary and costly use of Alliance resources. He was suddenly glad to have taken the trouble to bring Threepio with him – who knew what lengths Padme might have gone to in order to retrieve their golden friend.

"What a waste," the pilot beside him commented.

"You might be surprised." Obi-wan replied, thinking of the day he had first been introduced to Anakin, and how he had felt about the boy.

The distance between that moment and this one seemed as immense in size as to rival the universe.

* * *

"Well, that's it, then," Padme turned from the comm. and eyed her twins, who sat on the edge of the bed in their assigned quarters, feet dangling off the side and staring at their mother with fixed determination. "Han says the maintenance ship just arrived with the _Falcon_, and it's more or less in one piece. He images it will take some weeks, maybe even a month or two, to get it – her – space-worthy again, but he sounded very grateful. We did the right thing."

Han had sounded more than grateful. He had complained about the state his ship was in, and that he had reserves about ever letting Luke at the controls ever again. But there had been an affectionate note in his voice when he spoke of repairing the freighter, despite the hours and the cost. And Padme was glad now that she had taken the initiative and insisted Bail have the _Falcon_ returned to her captain.

Solo was not necessarily alone in the galaxy – he had Chewie to watch out for him. But he was still young, and Padme's maternal instincts made her sympathetic to the war orphan that had quickly become her friend.

Force knew if the war had claimed her, she would have wanted someone to care for her children.

"When are we going home, Mama?" Leia asked, her mind moving on to other things now that her concerns for Han had been seen to.

"Soon, sweetheart. But until we hear from Daddy, we need to stay with the fleet." Padme glanced uncertainly at her son. His intense Force talents no longer worried her as they had when he was younger, but that didn't mean she felt comfortable asking him to use them. But it had been weeks since Anakin had left with Siri on their mission, and no reports had yet to come in. She couldn't help but feel anxious. "Luke, honey? Can you tell me how your father is doing?"

Luke tilted his head thoughtfully for a moment, then beamed.

"He's okay. He's kinda upset with Aunt Sabe right now, because she still won't let him be in charge, even though there are a lot of people to order around. They're getting ready to leave and come back this way."

"Good." At least that meant they had control over the situation, whatever it was they were doing.

The door chimed in the other room, and Padme sighed. It was probably one of Bail's aides, or another representative of High Command, wanting something from her. After what she had been through the last few days, becoming involved in on-board politics was not something she wanted to be bothered with.

"Luke, Leia. Stay here."

"It's okay, Mama." Luke replied, glancing toward the lounge and the still chiming door. He offered another one of his bright smiles before climbing up to sit cross-legged on the bed. "Me and Leia are going to practice meditating."

His sister made a face, but joined her twin.

Assured that her children were both occupied, Padme closed the door between the bedroom and lounge before heading over to palm the main door to their quarters.

"Obi-wan!"

The Jedi Master smiled, looking her up and down. "I must say, as well as fatigues suit you, Padme, you look far more comfortable in that outfit."

She laughed, looking down at the simple tunic and the skirt she was wearing over leggings and boots made of soft fabric. "Well, it isn't covered in blue dust, it doesn't have a blaster scorch mark on the shoulder, and I am not being weighed down by a survival pack. For all my love of adventure, I have to agree, this is far more suitable."

Her friend laughed and stepped forward to embrace her. They had been apart mere days, but he was thoroughly glad to see her.

"Come in, please. Can I get you some refreshments?"

Obi-wan raised a brow as he joined her on the sofas in front of the viewport. "You haven't replaced Threepio already, have you? He's in droid maintenance right now, getting himself an oil bath, but he's more than eager to return to service. You realize he'll be devastated if you've gotten yourself another protocol droid."

"I wouldn't dream of it. I got tired of having to go down to the mess hall when I wanted a cup of tea, so upon my request, Bail was kind enough to supply me with a few essential items."

"Along with a tractor beam, I noticed."

"And what makes you think I had anything to do with that?"

Kenobi laughed. "I apologize. You're right, of course. Young Captain Solo probably hijacked one of the maintenance vessels to go and retrieve the ship himself. Unless, of course, your children are trying their hand at piloting again." He teased. "But I am fairly certain Luke made me a promise."

"He promised not to get into any more dogfights for the time being," Padme reminded him. "No, I confess. I asked Bail to raise the _Falcon_." She paused, noticing something strange about her Jedi Master. He was fidgeting. Obi-wan was usually the very embodiment of proper behavior, even in a casual setting, but now he couldn't keep his hands still. She looked at his face, noticing for the first time since he came in that there was an unusual color to his cheeks. His hand reached up to tug at the beard that was no longer there, just rough stubble after the days on Urteau. He had come to see her without shaving first. And his clothes were still dusted in blue. Obi-wan had come to here in a hurry.

"Obi-wan, what is it? Is it Anakin and Siri? Has their report come in?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, not that I know of." Obi-wan leaned forward in his seat, his eyes bright with anxious excitement. Padme found herself instinctively responding, her heartbeat increasing, hands clenched. The Jedi Master pressed his lips together for a moment before speaking. "Padme, there is something I have to ask you."

"What? Obi-wan-please! Whatever it is, just _tell me_."

"It was something I meant to discuss with Anakin earlier, but then he left with Sabe and I just didn't get the chance. And now, with the recovery of the information in the Archives, and everything that has happened the last few days, it just seems to have come to this. To my asking your permission for something."

What in the galaxy he was about to ask her, Padme had no idea, only that if he didn't hurry up and spit it out, she was going to reach across and strangle him for riling her up like this! She tried to think back over the last few days, the wonder that had been the Archives, the desperate trek back from the cavern that was now a hazy. What stuck out most was that overwhelming relief at finding her children alive and unharmed. She had no idea what Obi-wan could be referring to.

"Obi-wan Kenobi, if you do not stop teasing me this instant –"

"I would like to begin Luke and Leia's training."

"What?" That wasn't anything like she had been expecting. _This_ was what all his pent-up energy and excitement was about?

It was a perfectly acceptable request. In fact, Padme had always thought that Obi-wan would be the one who ended up teaching her children the ways of the Force, most likely alongside their father. But why would this generate such a response in him, send him racing to her side to ask permission?

"Obi-wan," she started, unsure of how to proceed. Should she wait for Anakin to make this decision? If it was so important, should she be making this choice alone? Sometimes, Padme was reminded of how little she understood the ways of the Jedi. "Obi-wan, I would be delighted for you to take Luke or Leia as your apprentice. But, I have to admit I'm a little concerned as to why this is suddenly such a big deal."

The Jedi stood, surprising her, and went to stand in front of the viewport. He stared out at the fleet for a moment, before turning to glance back at her, that same gleam still in his eyes.

"Do you know what it was like for me growing up, Padme?"

Caught off guard for the second time in mere moments, all she could do was shake her head.

"No, I suppose not. You were raised by your parents, in the Lake District on Naboo." The Lake District was a beautiful, scenic part of her planet. A family had to be well-off or well-connected to live in such a place. Though her family would have supported any choice she made concerning career and family, Padme's future had always clearly been of promise in civil service, with all the benefits that would come with such a life. "Imagining growing up in the Jedi Temple for you must be as difficult as it is for me to imagine Anakin's childhood as a slave."

"You are worried about the children being raised properly," Padme guessed. "Here among the fleet, in the midst of a rebellion."

"No," he corrected. "Luke and Leia are under the best care any child could ever receive. They have their parents, and their pseudo-family. They have the droids and a whole host of rebels who have fallen under their charm. And they have Qui-gon, and the Force to watch over them as well."

"Obi-wan," Padme shook her head and rose to join him at the window. She reached out to take his hand in hers and gazed up at him with her brow furrowed in concern. "Obi-wan, what is it?"

The Jedi Master gave her hand a squeeze. "The Order has reestablished itself, Padme. With the gathering of Jedi here among the fleet, and with the recovery of the Archives. Whoever hid them down there knew one day we would need the information contained within that cavern. But the centuries of Jedi lore and philosophy cannot be the grounding of a new order, a stronger, more involved order. The Jedi of the future cannot be shut off from the people of the galaxy. That was what Qui-gon meant when he said certain lessons were not meant to be taught. The Order will look to Anakin and myself as examples. I've seen it starting to happen already. I want to use that to change things."

"And you want how Luke and Leia are trained in the Force to serve as one of these examples."

"Yes. Padme, before we left to come here, I had a meeting with Master Yoda and Master Gharlin. Along with myself and Anakin, they are the new Jedi Council. One of the things we discussed was children. Jedi children, because if these changes in the Order do take place, there will be others than just your twins. And the old ways of dealing with younglings will no longer suffice. That is why I offered to eventually take one of the twins as my padawan. Before, you would have simply had to give up your child to the Jedi. I believe there has to be a better way. One that allows for familial love and devotion to prosper, without hindering an individual's growth as a Jedi." He paused, and Padme saw something in his eyes that made her realize this new passion of his was founded on an unexpected sadness.

"You do not want Luke and Leia to be taken away from their parents. The way Anakin had to be taken from his mother." She held his hand tighter as she looked tenderly at the man before her. "The way you were taken from yours."

Obi-wan hesitated, then nodded. This was the reason he had left the Cavern of the Archives and come to find Padme. The other Jedi would not have been able to understand this. They would have dismissed his arguments with remarks about tradition and necessity, without even considering alternative means of training future Jedi. But Padme, who was a mother, a wife and a friend to Jedi could see both points of view, and not ridicule him.

"I have no memory of my birth family. I was taken when I was very young, and raised in the Temple. I never thought there was anything wrong with that. It was a good way to grow up, and it allowed for every-day instruction on the Jedi philosophies. But I never thought about how it might have affected my parents. I never wondered who they were. I never asked myself if isolating younglings from their families was right, until Master Yoda wondered if you would give up the twins to the Order. How could I allow that?"

"You couldn't," she replied, determination etched into her features. "And I won't give them up, not yet. Even if it is the only way for them to become Jedi."

"But it isn't. Padme, Anakin's redemption proved that there _is_ a way back from the Darkside. The building of this fleet and the efforts taken by you and others has shown that the people of this galaxy will stand up against tyrants like Palpatine. Now I need to provide a better way of continuing the Order. The archives will be an asset, but they will not determine the course we set for ourselves."

He was surprised when Padme reached up and pulled him close to her, but then relaxed into the embrace. Obi-wan felt the new energy in him transforming from anxiousness for all the planning and effort his ideas would require, into a strengthening hope.

Pulling away, but with their fingers still intertwined, they moved back to the sofa.

"Will you tell me what you found down there that got you so riled up?" she asked softly.

"I suppose it was something I have subconsciously been thinking about for a while now, since the Council was unable to come to a decision. And there was Sabe's question about the possibility of our own children." Padme's suddenly beaming smile made Obi-wan hold up his free hand. "Oh, no. Don't go getting any ideas about that. Besides, that is a conversation I need to have with her first." He ignored his sister-in-law's infamous pout and continued. "Family has come to be something very important to me over the last few years. And when Threepio told me he had found records of my birth family, for the first time I was curious about them."

"Why would they have your records?"

"So the Order could occasionally check in with my family to learn if any other Force-potential children had been born. And there were. I have a nephew, Dan-sen, who is about Anakin's age, but was never taken for training. And a niece as well, named Ari-mara, who would have been brought to the Temple about the same time as the Purges. There is no record of what happened to her."

"Oh, Obi-wan." Padme moved closer to put her arm around his shoulder. She wasn't sure if she was offering comfort or encouragement, only that she wanted to be there to give her brother-in-law whatever he needed. "What are you going to do? Now that you know, are you going to go see them?"

"I don't know." He replied honestly. Obi-wan smiled half-heartedly, wrapping his arms around her smaller frame and resting his cheek on the top of her head. "My parents and sisters probably know me from the holonet during the Clone Wars. But I don't know them."

"They're very proud of you."

He pulled back to stare at the woman beaming up at him.

"How do you know that?"

"Because we are. Because we're proud of you, Obi-wan, and love you very much. And I could not be more grateful that you have been a part of my life."

"Even when I won't let you rescue yourself?"

Padme laughed and leaned back against him. "Sometimes, we all need to be rescued."

They glanced up as the door to the bedroom slid open and two smiling children came to join them. Without a word, Obi-wan helped Leia up into his lap, where she could also lean her dark head against the shoulder of her favorite Jedi Master. Luke climbed up beside his mother, and she kissed the top of his blond head.

All that was missing to make the moment perfect was a certain Jedi and a former handmaiden. But Luke's contented expression told them all that Anakin and Sabe would be home soon. And whatever was coming after this, they would all be there to face it together.

* * *

Sitting in the cockpit of his X-wing, hovering just on the edge between the safe zone and the whirling black holes, Anakin sat in contemplation of the view outside his ship.

It was lonely without the stars.

The seeming emptiness that was space, with the black holes sucking away all the light to some unknown destination, left a great void. It could be unsettling, playing with a person's equilibrium – which was chancy enough out in space – but also with their mind. There was a reason spacers avoided flying anywhere near the Maw. Not only was there the off-chance of getting too close, ending up with the frantic bursts of reverse engines being the last anyone might see of them, but also because the Maw had a way of tugging at a person on the inside.

The nothingness that was the system without the shine of distant stars, tiny offerings of hope in an otherwise barren space, could fill even the hardest spacer with despair. It could crush their spirit, drag them down to places where even the most passionate of appeals could not reach them.

This loneliness, this deadening pull on the soul was at once both familiar and a distant memory to Anakin.

He had known these feelings intimately during his time as a servant of the Darkside. Had felt his entire self being smothered by something no lightsaber could dismember or Force-push could remove. Anakin had been so sure then that he wasn't worth saving.

But the Darkness had lifted.

It had its place, though. The Light could not exist without the Dark, and he was sure now that there was balance between the two that had to be achieved. Anakin was unclear as to how to go about that, exactly. But he figured this was a good place to start.

"This is Strike One. I want a full count before we do this."

In response to Sabe's command, the twelve remaining pilots of _Strike_ squadron counted off. After them came the passenger vessels filled with former Imperial technicians and troopers. Getting the entire group back through the Maw was bound to be another harrowing adventure, but having mapped the safe passage on their flight in, Anakin felt confident they would arrive outside the system without too much trouble.

"Everyone is accounted for, Anakin." Sabe said after checking the location of each X-wing, Tie and shuttle. "Enter the code."

"Right. Artoo?" The little droid, his valiant friend through so many adventures, chirped in acknowledgement. A series of numbers scrolled across the screen, before vanishing as the signal left his ship and headed toward the station that hung ominously before them.

Barely a second passed, long enough for Anakin to take a breath. To stare at the terror conceived by a mind twisted by hatred. He looked at the Death Star, feeling the significance of this moment, the shift being created in the Force.

The blast ripped the siding off the half-constructed station, the energy from inside demanding release from its confines and into space. The fireball blossomed outward before the spark that had given it life was shushed by the depletion of necessary oxygen. The fragmented bits that had not been consumed continued to spiral outward. Eventually, their trajectories would take them far enough to be caught in the vortex of a black hole.

All traces of the Death Star station would vanish, taking with it the memory of the Darkness capable of constructing it.

"This is Strike One," Sabe's voice filled the following silence. "We're heading out. Strike Sixteen, you take point."

"Copy that," Anakin replied, turning his ship towards the exit with confidence. "You with me, Piett?"

"I've got your wing, Jedi Skywalker."

Anakin smiled, feeling that the Force was with them. He didn't know where it would lead him, but he could sense Padme and Obi-wan, and his children, waiting for him. They were his stars in the otherwise emptiness of space, bright lights, leading him home.

* * *

_To Be Continued_

Thank you, everyone, for reading this fic, putting up with the endless delays, and making it as fun as it was. A special thank you to those who replied or e-mailed: you made it worth writing each new post.

As I mentioned above, this is not the finale, unless you simply can't take any more. The epilogue will be up soon (following a brief intro, and then, Chapter 1: what's to become of Sabe and Obi-wan?). I'm hoping to finish everything before the six year mark in June (or is it July? I'll have to check).

So until we meet again in _RotL: Glimpses of the Future_, may the Force be with you.

Caslia


End file.
